#her baby brother crying and begging for them to not leave his sister's body behind bc he didn't want to leave her
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that bastard killed su-yeong i'm so upset she was only nine years old and everything she did was to protect her little brother TT could have killed off any other character in that scene it did NOT have to be her
#her baby brother crying and begging for them to not leave his sister's body behind bc he didn't want to leave her#'I'll die too anyway' 'I'm staying with su-yeong'#pls him screaming as they carried him away from his older sister#this is so fucking hard to watch oh my god#kudos to these two child actors goddamn bc they can ACT#that little boy's screams are going to haunt my nightmares tonight#sweet home#sweet home spoilers#🐈⬛
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i'm writing this because i don't know else to do to stop crying. and because there is little else my helpless hands can do to change this horrifying reality we're living in. i am sudanese. and my mother just told me that we've lost yet another relative in the ongoing civil war in sudan. i've also learned that the small lovely town i grew up in, Shambat, in Khartoum Bahri, is currently plagued by this fever the origin of which is yet to be identified. from what little we know whoever gets this fever just does not wake up to see the sun of another day. it might be because the dead bodies people buried in their backyards in a desperate attempt to grieve and honor them are unearthed by the rain. it might be because the entire health system has collapsed months ago and there is no way for these people to attain any form of medical help. we've lost family members with chronic conditions simply because they couldn't get medical attention until it was too late. my own grandfather died of complications that could've easily been managed had they gotten him the proper treatment. we've lost people to this fever, too. a brother and the very next day, his sister. and more keep dying. it hurts and angers me that no one's talking about this. and just as equally my heart breaks for each and every palestinian out there, and i keep praying for them and hoping to be half as patient as they are. i know what it's like to be so scared your entire body goes numb, i know what it's like to be displaced and leave behind everything you've ever known with little hope of ever coming back. to survive and not really feel like you did. i saw this video of a palestinian woman holding her dead baby and just begging to nurse him one more time. i see palestinian men breaking down into tears while trying to comfort children, literal babies, whom they pulled out of the rubble. a little girl who's saying god why didn't you take me along with my mother, god, you know i can't live without her. and i suddenly remember that i know of a friend of my family who just sits there crying helplessly every night because she doesn't know what to tell her starving nieces who are too young to understand that they can't get food because of all the shooting outside. i keep seeing entire villages in the west being completely wiped off the map, reduced to nothing but a black dot of ashes and ruin. and this isn't even a first; ethnical cleansing in the western areas of sudan went on for decades and no one even bat an eye. my heart will never stop bleeding for Darfur. i know of a group of boys who were stuck for days in the very university i went to, waiting for a ceasefire for days on end until one of them died of fear or starvation or illness or whatever it is that we still don't know to this very day, and they had to bury him in the very field they used to play football matches in. a field every student in that university knows and has been to and laughed and cried in. girls are raped and sexually enslaved in terrifying numbers. the biggest maternity hospital in the country, the one i was born in, was looted and patients kicked out. these are all stories that will never leave my memory til the day i die. they're all deaths i will never forgive nor stop mourning. i won't despair and i won't give up, but the heart aches and cracks, and the tears run and run and leave crevices behind. the world is an ugly, ugly place. only hope and solidarity can save us. my sudanese and palestinian brothers and sisters, you are not alone. and you never will be.
#sudan#sudan crisis#sudan conflict#palestine#free palestine#gaza#free gaza#may allah put an end to all this pain#Keep Eyes on Sudan
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The sound of a body throwing itself onto one of the infirmary cots echoed through the mostly empty room, followed closely behind with a dramatic, but melodic sigh. “Can I say something mean?”
“Probably not in front of the baby.”
Will groaned, looking up from his pile of patient reports he had been sorting for the past… year. “I hardly think eleven still counts as being a baby.”
Lee, who had been refilling first aid kits for the past two hours, contemplated this for a moment. “Maybe, but that’s besides the point. I’m six years older than you. You’ll always be a baby.”
“I’m going to say something mean. Will, cover your ears.”
“I’m not covering my ears, Taylor. Unlike you, I’m working right now and I need my hands.”
“Oh,” Taylor dragged, a taunt evident in her voice, "someone's grumpy.”
“He’s mad I put him on infirmary duty during arts and crafts.”
“Will, you aren’t good at arts and crafts.” Lee slapped her arm. “And you like working in the infirmary, you are constantly taking my shifts. It’s why I love you.”
Lee slapped her arm again. “Taylor, what the heck.”
Taylor groaned, “Fuck. Just say fuck. I’m begging you.”
“That’s besides the point. I had it with Cecil. We were going to finish our board game.” Will turned to Lee, pointing an accusing finger at him, “You knew this.”
Lee let out a long-suffering sigh and Will almost felt bad for causing a fuss, but really, Lee brought this upon himself. “Taylor, stop pawning off your shifts to Will. Will, stop letting Taylor’s pawn off her shifts to you. Also: I’m sorry about arts and crafts. The last few days have been hectic and I needed your help. I’ll make sure to not schedule you over arts and crafts next week.”
“I’m going to be home next week! Mama is picking me up, remember?”
Lee had the decency to look ashamed when he said, “Heck. I forgot. I’m sorry, Will.”
Taylor got up from her self-designated cot and walked over to Will, ruffling his hair once she was close enough. “I’ll take over the rest of your shift, buddy. You go have fun.”
Will shook his head, “No, it’s okay. I’m already here. Arts and crafts is half-way done anyway. We wouldn’t be able to finish.”
“If you’re sure,” Taylor sighed as she pressed a kiss to his forehead and Will let out a cry of protest because he could feel the lipstick stain there. He tried rubbing it away with his fingers but by the look on Lee’s face and the snickers Taylor was making behind him, he only made it worse.
Lee graciously handed Will a wipe before glaring at their sister. “Taylor, what are you even doing here?”
“I think I made that pretty obvious when I threw myself onto a bed and stated I was gonna say something mean. I came to gossip.”
“You should be at archery right now.”
“Mike was being a piss-baby. He wouldn’t let Josh and I try to hit one another. What’s the point of being in advanced archery if you can’t shoot at your brother? Moving targets!”
“So you left?”
“Yep. I found Silena and she offered to do my nails before I came by.”
Lee pinched the bridge of his nose in a way that resembled an old man at the end of his rope. Will suppressed a giggle at his brother’s anguish as Lee said, “You can’t do that.”
“Do what? My nails?”
“Leave Michael like that.”
“Why? He’s not in charge of me.”
“But I am. And he’s my second in command, so yes he is.”
Taylor groaned, flopping back onto her cot. “One, he’s like three weeks older than me, unfair. And two, none of that is important right now. What is important is that our father was here and didn’t say hi to any of us. Who does that?”
“Our father, apparently.”
Taylor flipped Lee off, showing off her new manicure. It was baby pink, like her lipstick, with a little sun in the center. “He gives those kids a ride, none of them his, and has the audacity to leave before saying hi? Hell, Will over here has never met him. He has time to bring a group of kids to camp, but can’t spare a lousy minute to check in on us? And I can’t say this to Michael or he’ll claim I’m “on the other side”.” Taylor sighed, a faraway look in her eyes. Will had only seen this look on her face a few times before: every time Luke was mentioned. “I’m just tired of feeling abandoned and I’m sick of feeling like it’s bad to think that.”
Lee stepped towards her, a soft, “Tay–” passing through his lips, before she sat up and shook herself out of her stupor.
“Instead of saying hi, he just causes chaos and disappears! He brings Percy back, which is never a good sign. Thalia is driving the sun chariot, and crashes it! Oh, and he brought that new weird kid that keeps bombarding everyone with questions.”
Will saw through the change of topic, and Lee clearly had to as well, but he allowed it to happen. He slapped her on the arm for the third time, “He’s not weird. He’s, like, eight. The kid is just excited. You were excited about camp once upon a time.”
Taylor turned to Will, jerking her head at Lee, “I think he’s finally lost it. When have I ever been excited by anything ever?”
Will grinned, “Yesterday, you beat Madi at Josh’s song quiz and you danced around the cabin for ten minutes.”
Taylor gasped loud and dramatic, clutching at her chest as she fell back onto her cot, chestnut hair falling all over her face in her fall. “William! How dare you accuse me of such things!”
#will solace#lee fletcher#solangelo#wip wednesday#solangelo fic#solangelo fanfiction#pjo#pjo fandom#mine.doc#i swear nico is in this just... later#for now its just cabin seven sibling antics#this is a wip wednesday so please ignore any mistakes#i want to have this fic posted saturday but i'm historically not great at self-inflected deadlines#my “birthday” fic was posted five days after my birthday soooo#my goal is to post this at the airport before i get on a plane but we shall see#this fic is an interpretation of nico and will meeting. like. the meeting mentioned in tsats but its also a will coming out to his mom fic#but like. not all that serious. in fact its very silly#if you read my fic 'a little house on the edge of town' it mentions will coming out and this is the story that alludes to#look at me just yapping in tumblr tags#rip taylor you would have loved kayla#thats a joke taylor knew kayla before she 💀
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ok Ok wait I'm here for angst consider!!
Yan! Andrew and Older Sister Reader post Decay route, where reader walks in an Andrew right after he kills Ashley and talks him down or straight up restrains him from killing her/himself, promising to give him something to live for. She can't save Ashley, but she can save her remaining—however fucked up he may be—sibling right? However, all this means is that Andrew becomes even more yan than he already was and basically guilt-trips the reader and traps her with him. Regardless of where they go, regardless of who they meet, he can't stand being a step away from her. And if she doesn't listen, then all he has to do is pull out the knife again and put it to his own neck.
notes from coff-in: Teehee. I'm sorry if this isn't as angsty as you expected it to be. I don't usually read angsty stuff and this is my first time writing something like this. I saw this ask and just knew that I had to answer it as soon as possible, hehe. Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy it!
[fem] reader-insert, [reader] is older than andrew by about 2 years, this is a follow up to my previous "older sister reader" headcanons
I'll keep you in my arms and never let go.
(GOD THIS IDEA IS SO TOXIC, I LOVE IT!!!)
Big sis [reader] straight up runs up to Andrew, catching him off guard and gripping the hand holding the cleaver, BEGGING him not to kill himself.
“Stop it, stop it, stop it! Stop it! You can stay with me, you can have me, please! Don’t do it, Andrew, don’t do it! You can have me… don’t leave me… please…” [reader]’s fucking crying as she retrains his arm and hand, trying to pull the cleaver out of his hands. (I’m sorry for the poor writing, I saw this ask and all my neurons started rapid-firing ideas all at once).
She’s devastated about Ashley’s death– she was her younger sister after all– but she also tries to distance herself from what happened for the sake of Andrew. She can’t linger on the past when Andrew is right there asking for her help.
(I just realized that the Decay vision takes place in a future we don’t know much about yet, so I’m going to make some stuff up!)
When Ashley died in the demon/dream world her body in real life was left as a soulless husk of some sort. [reader] offered to just kill Ashley’s body and bury her somewhere discreet but Andrew said that he wanted to eat her. A weird final farewell but she’d do it for her little brother.
During dinner, Andrew asked [reader] a question that binded her to him forever: “You promise to never leave me, right?”
The answer fell out of her mouth so naturally that she didn’t even consider the consequences that could follow: “I promise to never leave you, Andrew.”
[reader] and Andrew leave the town they were living in to start anew somewhere else, to putting everything that had happened behind them. Andrew’s never been the youngest sibling before. [reader] dotes and babies him a lot not only since he’s her little brother but her only sibling now. She makes sure that he’s always comfortable wherever they go and gets a job to support the household.
Andrew doesn’t like the idea of his big sis getting a job. She would be talking to other people for most of the day… She wouldn’t be there for him! At first he stalks her workplace, then he tries to get a job working in the same office with [reader] so that they can be close. When that doesn’t work, Andrew waits for his big sis to return to their new home that night. A sharp kitchen knife sits comfortably in his tight grip.
{reader]’s boss had kept her at the office later than what she expected to make up overtime. He’s not waiting on taking advantage on his new employee, it seemed. She sighed as she walked up to the new motel Andrew and her were staying at. As she dugged through her coat pockets for her keys she noticed that one of the lights were on inside.
‘He must’ve had another nightmare again,’ [reader] thought to herself as her hand finally found the motel room keys. He had been racked with awful nightmares ever since Ashley died. Every night he would come to [reader]’s bed and asked if he could sleep with her. He said that it helped him sleep. At some point they stopped trying to sleep in separate beds and now they just shared one.
She entered the motel room and saw Andrew leaning against the kitchen counter. Neither of them made a sound as [reader] closed the door behind her. “I’m home. Sorry I came back late,” [reader] said as she proceeded to take off her coat, “My boss kept me back later than I expected.” Andrew never took his eyes off of his older sister. His silence was scaring her. “Did you get a nightmare?”
“Couldn’t sleep without you…” Andrew answered her silently. “I needed you… and you weren’t there.” His grip tightened on the knife in his hand and [reader] finally noticed it, its glint reflecting the motel room’s light. She stared to realize that this conversation was heading into a very dangerous direction.
“I’m sorry,” [reader] started as she took a slow step closer to Andrew, approaching him like he was a scared animal, “I’m sorry that I came home late, Andrew. I didn’t mean to… not be here with you.” In a flash, Andrew brings the knife’s sharp edge to his neck, the two surfaces a hair’s breath away from kissing and spilling blood.
“Then don’t go! Don’t leave me again!” Andrew yelled at [reader] as she stood in shock. “You promised that you’d never leave and you did! Don’t you love me, sis? Don't I mean anything to you?” [reader] quickly closed the gap between her and her brother and grabbed his hands just like she did when… when she saw…
“Of course I love you, Andrew! I’m sorry!”
'I’m so tired of your sorry’s. They don’t mean shit!'
[reader] wrapped her arms Andrew and hugged him, trying to run away from that moment. She wouldn’t lose another sibling. Not tonight. Not again. “I won’t go back. I won’t leave you again, Andrew.” Andrew wrapped his arms around his big sister and buried his face into the side of her head.
“Promise?” He whispered in her ear, smiling.
"Promise."
----
coff-in
#cobweb in the coffin#tcoaal#the coffin of andy and leyley#tcoaal x reader#the coffin of andy and leyley x reader#andrew graves#andrew graves x reader
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A Boyfriend and a Stalker (1)
Summary: When Y/N and Rafe break up she finds comfort in the blonde surfer boy which drives Rafe mad. Will his craziness drive him to the do the stupidest thing of his life?
Warnings: smut, swearing,
“T-That can’t be true.” Y/N whispered shaking her head as Sarah told her that she saw another girl leaving Rafes room in the morning. "I'm sorry." She said wrapping her arms around Y/N who collapsed in her arms crying her eyes out. The rest of the group walked out of the chateau beers and weed in hand and once they saw Y/Ns crying figure they dropped everything running over to her joining the hug. "What happened?" John B asked wanting to know the reason his sister was crying. "R-Rafe cheated on me." John Bs jaw clenched wanting to beat the living daylight of the eldest Cameron for hurting his sister. "Please don't do anything. Not yet at least." Y/N begged just wanting her brother at the moment and also knowing him, JJ, and Pope wouldn't hesitate to find Rafe and beat him. After a few minutes of hugging and Y/N crying they all sat around the fire drinking and smoking telling random stories. Y/N was slowly smoking a blunt tuning out everyone around her and she got up walking to the dock sitting on the edge and kicking the water sighing and letting a few tears slip. She heard footsteps approaching and she quickly wiped her tears.
JJ sat besides her a blunt in his hand as he looked over at her, her cheek shiny from the tears that fell. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and she laid her head on his shoulder relaxing a bit. She always felt comfortable with JJ, she felt comfortable with all her friends but secretly JJ was her favorite. JJ kept quiet knowing she didn't want to talk about it and that she just enjoyed the company. Y/N wasn't one for talking about her feelings, she would just break or smash things to take her anger out. After about ten minutes of silence JJ cracked a few jokes wanting to cheer the girl up and he smiled truimphly when it worked, she was laughing and smiling forgetting about all the problems but her happiness was soon ruined when her phone dinged. She pulled it out seeing she had texts and calls from Rafe but she ignored them placing her phone back in her pocket. "Wanna go for a swim?" She suggested hopping up wanting a distraction and JJ nodded and they both headed inside to change into their bathing suits. "Last one in is a rotten egg!" Y/N giggled sprinting towards the dock as JJ laughed running behind her and jumping into the water after her. "You're a rotten egg." She giggled uncontrollably high out of her mind as JJ splashed her. They swam around for hours splashing each other and racing one another in the water and just talking about life.
"I am going to go get some sleep. I had really fun tonight JJ, thank you." She kissed his cheek before getting out of the water wrapping a towel around herself and heading inside the chateau showering and getting ready for bed.
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Y/N tossed and turned for a majority of the night not looking forward to the next day, the day she had to break up with Rafe. She got a total of three hours of sleep before her body woke up again and she groaned taking a shower and getting ready. She put on light makeup not needing much anyway she was naturally beautiful with a baby blue crop top and black jean shorts with her sandals. "Do you want us to go with you?" Pope asked as she walked onto the porch and she shook her head grabbing the keys to the Twinkie and heading to the Camerons. Y/N pulled into the Camerons driveway taking a deep breath before getting out of her car not seeing Ward and Rose sitting in the front yard drinking wine. "Hi sweetheart I didn't know you were coming over today." Ward placed his glass down smiling at her. "I just need to talk to Rafe. Is he here?" She asked playing with her rings nervously as Ward nodded telling her he was in his room.
Y/N headed to his room knocking on the door before opening it and seeing Rafe laying on his bed watching something on the tv. "Hi baby, I didn't know you were coming." Rafe sat up slightly happy to see his girlfriend but she stayed in the doorway crossing her arms over her chest. "How was the whore last night? Was she good?" Rafes eyes widened not knowing how she found out but he denied it. "I don't know what you're talking about Y/N." Rafe stood up taking a step forward which caused her to step back. "Don't fucking lie to me Rafe. I know you had a girl over last night." Rafe rubbed his face then pushed his hair out of his face as he looked at his girlfriend who was glaring at him but he could see the sadness in her eyes. Y/N took his silence as conformation and she nodded taking her rings off and throwing them at him. "Fuck you Rafe Cameron." She said closing his door and heading down the stairs as he chased after her begging for her to listen and using the excuse that he was drunk.
"Y/N please just listen! I love you." He pleaded behind her as she opened the door and walked outside the yelling earning the attention of the two adults but that was the least of Y/Ns concerns. "Listen to what Rafe? Listen to how you fucked her, how it happened? You're a fucking cheater! Two years down the drain for some fucking whore! I hope it was worth it." She yelled at him turning away to walk away from him but he grabbed her arm turning her around and she slapped him across the face with her other arm. He rubbed his jaw looking at her in shock. "I fucking hate you." Was the last thing she said before running to the van jumping in and watching Ward and Rose yell at Rafe before driving back to the cut.
For over a week Y/N locked herself away in her room which she knew was unhealthy but she didn't care she just wanted to be in Rafes arms again having him whispering sweet nothings in her ear. Rafe on the other hand was out every night drinking and snorting coke trying to get his mind of his ex girlfriend, Topper and Kelce introduced him to new girls and he hooked up girls that looked like Y/N hoping it would fill the void but it didn't it just made him miss Y/N more. Rafe couldn't believe he fucked up the only good thing in his life, the only thing that made him happy was now gone because he slept with some fucking whore who meant nothing to him. He knew Y/N would never forgive him, she would never talk to him again or look in his direction. He wasn't going to be able to wake up to her sleeping figure every morning and hold her as they fell asleep. No more picnics during sunsets, no more pool days, no more lazy days snuggling in his bed eating junk food and watching their favorite movies. All of it gone.
Y/N heard a knock on her door and seconds later JJ poked his head inside holding up a bag of candy and she sat up sending a soft smile to the blonde and motioned him over. JJ sat next to her on her bed as she paused her tv show and he leaned against the headboard emptying out the bag. "All my favorites thank you JJ." "Anything to cheer you up cupcake." That was JJs favorite name to call Y/N, every time he called her it she would smile no matter the mood she was in. "How've you been doing?" He asked sweetly wrapping an arm around her shoulder and she shrugged popping a few candies in her mouth. "I've been doing great you know ugly crying, burying myself under my blankets, locking myself away in my room. Best I've ever been." She sarcastically said chuckling and JJ playfully nudged her and she nudged him back. "Wanna smoke?" JJ asked taking a blunt out. "Of course, I'll meet you on the porch I'm gonna change." JJ left the room and she changed into shorts and a tank top heading out to the porch taking a seat next to JJ.
He placed the blunt between her lips lighting it for her and she inhaled the smoke keeping it in her mouth for a few seconds before blowing it out. When she was at a perfect high she placed her head in JJs lap letting him twirl her hair around his finger and she kept checking her phone to see if she had any notifications from Rafe even though she knew his name would never pop up on her phone again. JJ noticed and he took her phone out of her hands shutting it off and placing it on the table next to them. "Do you want to talk about it?" JJ asked stroking her hair knowing that her mind must be eating away at her. "All week I was blaming myself for what he did. Wondering what I could've done better, what I could've changed but I realized that I did everything right. It wasn't me who fucked up the relationship it was his stupid ass and I'm done blaming myself." "That's my girl." JJ laughed and so did she playfully nudging his arm as he did the same. "Where is everyone?" She had just realized it was only her and JJ at the chateau. "John B is with Sarah, Pope and Kiara went home so their parents wouldn't murder them." "Good idea, we need them alive." She chuckled taking another drag of the blunt.
Y/N had her head resting in JJs lap as he played with her hair reminicing on the times when they were kids and how he always dragged her and John B down with him whenever he got in trouble. Both of them were high out of their minds giggling uncontrollably and she was looking up at JJ taking in all his features. Before her and Rafe started dating she had a crush on JJ but never thought he felt the same about her, she was John Bs sister she never thought she stood a chance. She tilted her head to the side to get a better view and took in how perfect his jawline is, how pink and kissable his lips are, how chiseled and defined his cheekbones were and oh god his dimples and blue eyes were enough to make any girl fall for him. "What's going on in that pretty head of yours." JJ tapped his fingers on her forehead and she giggled smacking his hand away gently. "Just admiring you. You're pretty." She sat up and JJs heart fluttered when hearing her call him pretty.
JJ had always had a crush on the girl, she was the most beautiful girl in the world and her sweet and caring personality only made it better. He expected Rafe to fuck the relationship up within the first couple months but when he realized Rafe truly loved her he tried to get over his crush but it never went away, he became jealous of Rafe, jealous that Rafe was the one able to make her happy, hold her in his arms, tell her how beautiful she looked every day, he was able to be Y/Ns everything while JJ just had to sit there for 2 years acting like he was fine but now Rafe had fucked up and this was JJs time to make a move.
"You are also very pretty.” He booped her nose and she blushed hiding her face in his shirt as he chuckled stroking her hair. “Can I tell you something J? And you have to promise me it won’t cause any awkwardness between us.” She held her pinky out and he wrapped his pinky around hers promising. “I’ve always had a crush on you.” She admitted sitting up and looking everywhere but his eyes and JJ thought his heart was going to explode. The girl he’s been crushing on for years just told him she liked him back. Without thinking JJ turned her head to look at him and pushed his lips to her. Y/N kissed back with no hesitation wrapping her arms around his neck as his snaked around her waist pulling her onto his lap. They continued making out until she pulled away slightly needing to catch her breath.
"I've always had a crush on you too." JJ smiled and she leaned forward pressing her lips onto his again and slid her hands down his chest sneaking under his shirt to feel his abs. A small moan left her lips making JJ grow hard at the noise and Y//N smirked to herself feeling JJ hard under her. She rolled her hips against him and he groaned tilting his head back and Y/N took the opportunity to kiss his jaw and neck leaving little marks. She played with the hem of his shirt before lifting it up over his head throwing it somewhere next to them. Her eyes soaked up his body biting her lip feeling the wetness grow between her legs. She kissed down his neck, leaving kisses on his collarbones and every ab before playing with the strings on his shorts. "May I?" She asked looking up at him through her lashes and JJ could cum at the sight she looked so hot. "God yes." He breathed out as she palmed him through his shorts.
She pulled his shorts down his erection springing free and she wrapped her hand around his length pumping it slowly then wrapping her lips around his tip sucking and licking around it before taking him whole. "Holy shit." He shakily breathed out tangling his hands in her hair watching her suck on his cock. She twisted her head as she bobbed her head up and down making JJ moan loudly and admire how beautiful she looked with his cock in her mouth. She reached down to play with his balls and that was enough to send JJ over the edge he bucked his hips as his cum spilled into her mouth and he expected her to spit it out but she swallowed all of it with a smile on her face and didn't take her lips off his cock until she knew she got every last drop. "You taste so fucking good J." She wiped the corners of her mouth with her middle finger and sucked the cum off. "That was the hottest thing I've ever seen." "Wanna see something hotter?" She teased and he nodded his head eagerly and she grabbed his hand leading him to her room and she closed the door behind them pushing JJ onto the bed.
He propped himself up on his elbows to watch as she slowly stripped in front of him teasing him. JJ groaned impatiently making her smirk and she pulled her shirt over her head leaving her in her black lace bra. JJ licked his lips hungrily and his eyes followed her every move as she turned around teasing him once again by pulling her pants down enough to expose her ass before pulling them back up again. JJ stood up wrapping his arms around her and carefully threw her on the bed. "Enough with the fucking teasing." He growled yanking her pants off and kissing up her legs leaving marks on her thighs marking her as his. His face was right in front of her pussy and he slid a finger between her folds making her gasp. He rubbed her clit looking up as she bit her lip watching him mess with her clit. "You want my tongue baby?" He asked seductively licking the inside of her thighs. "Yes J." She pleaded bucking her hips and he pushed them down tsking. "You have to be a good girl baby." JJ flicked his tongue over her clit making her jolt and he smirked to himself before diving into her pussy making her moan loudly and tug on his hair. "Fuck baby." She moaned as he dipped his tongue inside of her running it along her walls.
He sucked on her clit watching her become a mess under him and he loved being able to have her moaning and squirming under him the pleasure being too much for her. She wrapped her thighs around his head as her body started to shake, she could feel the warm feeling in her stomach. JJ slipped two fingers inside of her curling them to hit the right spot as he continued to suck on her clit wanting her cum all over his face. "Fuck JJ!" She screamed trying to move away but he held her in place and she shrieked as she finished all over his face her breathing heavy. "You taste delicious." JJ licked his lips and licked her pussy clean. He hovered over her kissing her and she moaned into his mouth tasting herself on his tongue. "Shit!" They said in unison when hearing the door to the chateau open and close knowing it was John B and Sarah. "Hey Maybank you missing your shirt?" Sarah snickered from the other side of the door and Y/N chuckled softly. "Will you be mine?" JJ asked holding her close. “Of course.” She smiled and JJ kissed her roughly smacking her ass and then JJ opened the door grabbing the shirt putting it on as Sarah looked between the two smirking. "If you don't mind JJ." Sarah said signaling she wanted to speak to Y/N alone. Sarah closed the door squealing and jumping.
"You need to calm the hell down." Y/N laughed shushing her and she blushed as she sat on the bed blushing. "Sooooo what happened?" Sarah asked the big question excitedly sitting next to her best friend wanting to know everything. "Sarah I just broke up with your brother are you sure you want to hear this?" Y/N cocked an eyebrow at her as Sarah gave her a look and Y/N put her hands up in defense. "We didn't have sex if thats what you're asking. You and John B interrupted." Y/N playfully glared at the blonde as she rolled her eyes sarcastically apologizing. "Butttt he was amazing. More than amazing, more than perfect! Waaayyy better than Rafe, JJ took his time made sure I was feeling good too. And he's really fucking hot." Y/N gushed about JJ and the biggest smile anyone could have was spread across her face and Sarah smiled at the sight of her best friend, it's been a long time since she was truly happy. “Are you guys dating?” Sarah asked and JJ smirked as he was eavesdropping through the door loving that he finally had the girl of his dreams but on the other side was Rafe leaning against the chateau listening through the open window already trying to come up with a plan to get her back.
#rafe cameron#outerbanks rafe#jj mayback imagine#jj maybank#jj maybank imagine#rafe x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron x reader#rudy pankow#drew starkey
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He didn't want to be here, he didn't want to be the person to decide these things. But Natalia could go into labor any hour - she couldn't come. Even if she desperately wanted to, even if she wanted this closure as much as he did.
He supposed as her mate, as the Heir to Terresan, and High King of Prythian in Exile - he had a say in all this.
Fucking Daglan and their protocols. He looked from where Keir knelt bound. His children held back by gaurds, forced to watch. They'd stopped crying, begging for their father back. Would his children be next? Would this be the justice come to them when all those he used to get here got their revenge?
He dragged his eyes to Helion, he looked half crazed. The light around wasn't like Noelle's even at her worst it didn't feel like the ground was melting - like a star was being dragged toward them.
"Do you understand now? If Keir hadn't done what he did that day none of this would have happened Sebastian! My sisters were taken by Valg, her parents were killed."
He stepped closer, the heat, the gravitation pull nearly made his knees buckle. Maybe it was the latent Daglan blood in his body that kept him upright. His grandmother had bowed to no one. Mala had been a child of Deia herself, her flame ran down his bloodline. Algelika weilded that better than he did, like she breathed but he knew how to access that magic too. His lightning sparked, unfurling around his feet.
"Helion -"
"DONT YOU WANT REVENGE?! DONT YIU WANT HIM TO PAY FOR DESTROYING YOUR FAMILY LIKE HE DID OURS?!"
He exhaled, laughing as he ran a hand through his hair. This madness it didn't start with Cassandra. Perhaps it is the last curse of the Reshaye, all that power but unable to mentally handle it.
It would be something it would do.
"We are on the same side Sebastian."
Sebastian looked back to Keir, to Mora the knife at her throat. She didn't beg, she didn't cry or weep. She only held his gaze, daring him to walk.
What was the legacy he wanted to leave his children? He'd promised Natalia he'd come back, that he'd live instead of die for her.
But he didn't see a way out of this, he didn't -
All this rage, this revenge. Yes, yes that's what he'd wanted. That's all he wanted then he'd held his boys.
It was cliche, but he wanted to make the world better for him. He wanted to do good, he wanted them to remember for the lives he saved and not the blood on his hands.
He turned and walked away, Helion's laughter echoing on the wind. He found Etele easy enough, but then she wasn't hiding. She looked young as she whirled to stare at him.
Her light blazed around her, but he was faster, moving behind her as he slit her throat. The Changeling poison seeping into her veins. He stepped back as she collapsed, as he felt the ground rock from the fallout. He mentally tightened the bond. He knelt before her, gripping her throat.
"Keir may have started this but your family continued this agony."
He turned from her, hearing the second heartbeat in the air. He held out a small vial of the antidote.
"Enough for one of you. Hope you're able to tell him that."
It would be enough for the baby inside but if they choose her, well then they didn't deserve the fucking legacy.
Sebastian looked down at Keir, the sky churning with dark clouds. He undid the bounds, dragging him to his feet. Helion was gone, the soldiers had fled. The children safe hiding behind their mother.
"Sebastian -"
"I did this for my children, for the peace of mind I need to wash my hands of is entire chapter."
He turned to Keir, letting that brokenness finally be seen.
"We trusted you. We loved you Keir like a brother. How could you think to do this -"
"It was never aimed at your families. I just wanted Night to fall for -"
"Save it. Don't contact me again."
------
"How is she? Did she go into labor yet? Are the -"
"She's fine Sebastian, Noelle is with her as is Angelika and -"
Sebastian bit back a snarl as Cyrus touched his wrist.
"Sebastian what did you do?"
"I ended a fucking war. Now get out of my way before I electrocute you."
Cyrus blinked, stepping back, he strode into the house. She was fine, of course happily chatting. Sebastian couldn't stop the rising violence in him. He set his sword down, thankful the twins were in court - Khione and Boreas were prissy but as Boreas was a Daglan and Khione a Changeling - it was safer for them to be there.
"Get out."
Noelle snapped her head to him, she huffed.
"No. You're covered in blood but -"
//basixally Seb is about to loose control and just burn up his magic if he doesn't hr some kind of anchor or Centr soon?//
Discord and chaos, standing at the borders of day they could smell it within the air, they could taste it upon the wind. A small delegation gathered upon the border, not daring to enter despite the news they had received. Why would they? Even if it was their family, even if it was their blood. Thesan’s hand gripped her sister’s tightly, the newly crowned High Lady of Dawn stood tall as they could only see the chaos from a far.
“Keir told us not to get involved,” Endymion spoke up. “This goes back before the your sister returned to us Thesan.” The fall of Night, it had been the period of which Sarai and Thesan had been separated. After Spring had fallen each sister had been split up: Thesan had returned to Dawn while Sarai had been dragged to Night. There had been no warning about what was to happen, no whispers about the fall which would come.
His attention was fixed upon his mate’s twin, whose power swelled before dispersing with each moment. Her mating had been granted by her sister, a ceremony in Dawn. A place in Dawn, Sarai could have any role she desired but she had chosen the quieter life. A life along side the wolf, with Viren who was proving himself to be an ally and family member.
“Keir and his family will survive this, but our brother may not,” Sarai spoke up finally. “Helion is lead by his heart, he loves fully and hurts easily. When he is hurt he makes wrong decisions.”
Thesan looked back to Endymion - she didn’t need to say anything.
—————
Natalia looked from what she was working on, her attention drawn to Sebastian after he strode in the house. The scent of blood was thick, a wave of nausea flared up as she rose her hand up to cover her mouth. Even this late in her pregnancy, even with her labour impending.
A look of confusion crossed her face, the sudden actions and temper. She rose from where she was, ignoring the twinges. She reached out to touch her sister’s arm, assuring her she did not need to abide by his demand.
“She stays,” she countered as she moved forward. “For you are in no fit state to attend to me, and you return to me like this.” Her eyes narrowed.
“What have you done?”
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Welcome To The New Age Part 7
Niragi pulled his hand away from his face, blood dripping from his nose. He looked at her with anger, before his eyes landed on Chishiya, who still had his arms around her, holding her back against his chest. “Get your hands off my sister.” Niragi growled, taking a step towards them. Asuna knew if Chishiya let her go, that those walls would fall apart, feeling like he was the only one holding her up.
But he stepped back, hands up while she stood here, her body was still shaking. She couldn’t hold it all in anymore. “Don’t act like you care.” She screamed, hitting him again until he fell to the ground, arms up to protect himself from her hits.
She stepped back, hands marked from hitting him. With shaky fingers she pulled the sweatshirt off, then her shirt, her body covered with scars. Most were healed, but a few pink marks still covered her skin. She felt both pairs of eyes on her, taking in the sight and the reality of things.
“You want to be my brother? Then where were you when I was raped. I called you, and you ignored me. Pushed me away when I told you what happened that night. You even laughed when father arranged a marriage between me and one of my rapists. Said I brought it on myself.” Her voice held so much venom that she was sure it would burn him. But she didn’t care. She wanted to hurt him, bring him down and face the consequences of his actions.
Kneeling down, she made sure he could see the scars. Pointing to one on her stomach, she didn’t bother to hide the pain she felt. “This one is from when they had to cut the baby out of me. Because that man beat me so badly, he killed it. I begged them to leave it. To let it kill me so I wouldn’t have to suffer anymore, but father forced their hand. And you were nowhere to be found. The big brother I had looked up to for so long. The one that protected me when I was a child, the one that said he would always protect me was gone. I took care of you when your classmates bullied you. Showed you how to become stronger, to not show fear and stand up for yourself. And when you got what you wanted, you left me behind.”
Her voice shook, tears streaming down her face again. Niragi stared at the scars, realization crossing his face. Reality set in for him and she could see it. “You’re no different than those men. You’re doing to the women here what they did to me.” Her voice broke as she stood back up, turning her back to him to grab her shirt. More scars adorned her back, but in the midst of it stood a brand. Fully healed into her skin, a brand showing she was damaged. One that ensured she would remain untouched by most. Pulling her clothing back on, she glanced at Niragi, all emotion gone from her face and eyes.
“You have no say in who I spend my time with. You lost that right when you pushed me away. Next time, I’ll do more than break your nose.” With those words hanging between them, she walked out of the room, finally heading up the stairs to the roof for some fresh air, hearing the footsteps of Chishiya behind her.
Getting to the roof, she exhaled, her body sagging as everything left her. She sat down, staring down at the party going on below them. No words were spoken as he sat beside her, an arm wrapping around her shoulder, pulling her against his chest. She didn't fight him, didn't bother stopping him as she had no energy left. They sat there in comfortable silence, the sounds below the only thing to keep her mind from wandering too far.
She hadn't realized that she had started to cry again until his hand came to her cheeks, wiping tears away. Clearing her throat, she sat up, her eyes anywhere but on him. "Sorry." She whispered, wiping her face. She didn't want to see the pity on his face, the same look everyone gave her when she told them what happened. It was the reason she built her walls up so high, but this place shattered them so quickly she didn't know if she'd ever be able to put them back up again.
"He needed to hear it." Chishiya said simply, his arm still on her shoulder. She finally looked at him, seeing nothing but worry and compassion on his face. It was the second time that night he had shown any form of emotion in front of her, and she wondered if his walls were starting to come down as well.
"Yes, but you didn't need to be subjected to that." Her voice was raw, her throat sore from the crying and screaming. He shrugged, looking off into the distance as he pulled her close to him again. For someone who had shown no interest in touching another person, he seemed like he needed this as much as she did.
She found comfort in him being there, and her mind raced. It was the simply kiss to the forehead that made the thoughts worse, demons fighting with logic as she tried to decipher her feelings as well as the implications tonight would have on the rest of her time in Borderland.
Lifting her head to look at him, she waited until he glanced back at her, a brow raised as if questioning what she may say next. But no words were spoken because nothing needed to be said. Her lips pushed against his softly, her heart slamming into her chest as her mind finally went blank.
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So this au is basically about how Akito can summon The Fox Devil from Chainsaw Man, or at least, something similar to it.
Kon! au
It all started out as a innocent trip to see some distant family.
Akito was just a small boy and Mari was just a baby. Their parents had wanted to get away from the city for a while, so they planned a trip to the countryside to visit some relatives.
When they arrived, Akito's relatives immediately usured his parents inside so they could chat about adult things.
So being the mature boy he was, Akito promised his parents that he could look after Mari while they and the other adults talked.
This leaves both Akito and Mari alone with their older cousins who start asking Akito to come play with them in the nearby woods.
Akito of course declines at first. Not only was he was watching Mari, but those woods made him nervous...
Unfortunately, his cousins wouldn't take no as an answer, and after some more pushing from his cousins, Akito finally agrees.
With a sleepy Mari cradled in his arms, Akito follows his older cousins into the woods.
The group of children eventually stops in front an old shrine where Akito's oldest cousin tells Akito to head on in as he and the others were getting a few things.
This turns out to be a big mistake as Akito's cousins showed their true colors and proceeded to lock the young boy in the shrine.
"T-this isn't funny! Open the door!" Akito hits the door with his fist, begging for his cousins to open the door, but all they did was laugh and the young boy hears them start walking away, leaving him and Mari locked up.
Akito felt like he was going to cry. He should've stayed at the house like his parents asked him too.
A pudgy little hand pats his wet cheek, making Akito glance down. Mari was staring up at him from his arms and looked very much like she was going to cry as well.
"N-no! Don't cry Mari!" Akito didn't know what to do! His cousins had his bag that had Mari's toys and blanket in it, so he had nothing for Mari to play with!
Wait... There was one thing he could do that'll make Mari smile!
"K-Kon!" Akito knew Mari like when he did a fox hand sign, so he tried it. "Kon, Mari! Kon!"
It does the trick. Mari giggles, and started to babbling happily. It was almost she was saying kon as well.
Akito sighs as he leans back against the locked door behind him. "I really hope mom and dad find us soon..."
As the young boy dozes off, he never notices multiple glowing red eyes watching him and Mari from the darkness...
Akito slowly wakes up to the sound of Mari giggling. "'On! 'On!"
Why was she trying to say Kon? Akito wakes up with a yawn. "Mari? What-" Akito freezes, a cry of terror erupts from his mouth as he saw what was before him and Mari.
He and Mari weren't in the shrine anymore. They were somewhere else, and they weren't alone.
What looked looked like a fox was sitting in front of them. A massive fox with multiple glowing red eyes scattered across it's face, and nine long, luscious tails swaying behind it.
Akito throws himself over Mari, curling around his baby sister protectively. "Please don't eat us!"
The fox just tilts it's head curiously, and all of sudden, a calm female voice fills the room. "I will not eat you little one."
Akito slowly looks up, tears streaming down his face as he did. "Y-you won't?"
The fox shifts her massive body around till she was face to face with the young boy. "You have my word."
Despite knowing full well that he shouldn't trust the creature in front of him, Akito gives the fox a weak smile. "Okay... I-I believe you."
She makes an odd huffing sound that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. "I am pleased that you are no longer upset little one."
Apparently Mari had enough of sitting in her brothers protective embrace, so with a few wiggles, the baby escapes Akito's arms and crawls over to the fox's massive snout, hugging it with a happy giggle.
The fox immediately stills, making Akito start fearing for his and Mari's life again, but the fox just melts to the floor with a pleased rumble as she let Mari continued hugging her snout.
Soon Akito comes over to join his baby sister, lightly petting the massive fox's fur in awe, murmuring a quiet, "So pretty..."
The massive fox Akito and Mari were petting was actually a Kitsune. One that had been originally living in the shrine Akito and Mari were locked into. She had no name, as it was lost to time itself, and she never really cared to reclaim it.
She never really cared much about humans, as they weren't worth wasting her time on, but when she saw these two tiny humans, these tiny kits, she knew they were special. They were hers. Her kits.
But regardless of wanting nothing more to keep these human kits all to herself, she reluctantly helps the siblings get back to their parents as she knew she couldn't raise these human kits like they were actual Kitsune kits.
But that didn't mean she couldn't look after them. Protect them if need be. All Akito or Mari needed to do was to make a silly little fox hand sign, call out the word "Kon", and she'll be there to assist them! No matter the cost...
#ghostwire: tokyo#ghostwire tokyo#chainsaw man#crossover#akito izuki#mari izuki#the fox devil adopts akito and mari#long post#kon! au#no akito/kk in this part#maybe in the next one
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Master of Bats 🦇
Ch. 2 ᯾ Ch. 1
E.M x Henderson! Reader
Summary: You and your boyfriend Eddie narrowly make it out of the upside down (with some help from your friends) after Vecna is presumed dead.
Authors note: Reader is Dustin’s sister. This story differs from the plot of volume 2, but definitely includes similarities. There’s also one original character, Helena, that will be in the next episode. Our flight got delayed sooo I made this way longer than I planned. I’m splitting it into 2 parts (maybe more if u like it? 👉👈) The internet where we’re staying is spotty so I’m sorry if anything doesn’t look right or if the pics don’t load.
Warnings: angst (no Eddie death-you’re safe here), graphic descriptions of injuries and blood, descriptions of a physically strong metalhead reader (sorry if that triggers the incels 😘), Steve having no taste in music, and, of course, some signature fluff. No Stancy because I don’t feel like projectile vomiting.
“Do you think we bought enough time?” Eddie asked quietly.
What?!” You yelled in disbelief. He repeated his question. “Yes, of course you did, Eddie! Let’s go, please just please come back up.” You started to cry. Eddie hated nothing more in the world than to cause you tears, but was afraid his guitar skills, while amazing and ahead of his time, were not enough to help everyone he was fighting for. You, most of all. “I’m going to buy more time, ok, baby? I’ll come right back! Just a few minutes!” He promised, knowing full well that was not something he could guarantee. “NO!”You shouted before he could even finish. “I have to do this, Y/N. For Hawkins. For Chrissy. For our friends. For you.” He sounded so poetic, but his words were angering you to the point of smashing things. “No, you don’t! Hawkins doesn’t deserve your help!” You cried pathetically. “Maybe not, he smiled. But you do.” He let go of the rope and looked up at you, blowing you a kiss. “I love you, Y/N. More than anything. I’m coming back for you. Just wait here. Do not follow me.” Before you had a chance to react, he ran out of the trailer, taking your heart with you. There was not a second that went by before you were back on that rope, not caring that Eddie had moved the mattress to try and discourage you from coming down. You hit the ground, hard, but it didn’t hurt. The only thing you were focused on was Eddie. Getting him home. You looked up at a Dustin, wio had fully lost it at this point. He, like you, had been screaming and begging for Eddie to join you, not understanding why he stayed behind. He had tried to grab you as you dove back to the upside down, but you were too fast, moving like an animal hunting her prey. “Dusty. I love you. I will always love you. You’re the best brother in the world. And I’m coming back, ok? Just stay here. STAY. HERE.” You ordered frantically, taking one last look at your tear stained brother before you were rushing to find Eddie. The door to the trailer swung open and you searched the nearby surroundings. “Eddie!” You called out. Finally, you spotted him riding a pathetic looking bike, some 200 feet north of you. You spotted a bike laying haphazardly on the rotting earth (or lack thereof) and pulled it away from some debris. You hopped on that bike and peddled as fast as you possibly could, trying to catch up with Eddie. You knew your body would be absolutely aching after this, but the adrenaline was numbing the fire burning throughout your body. There were too many bats surrounding Eddie, and he could no longer keep up. They started landing on him, biting him, causing him to fall off his bike. You let out a shriek of horror, the loudest sound to ever leave your body. Eddie managed to get to his feet, trying to use his makeshift weapons to hold off the advancing swarm of vicious, albeit very metal, bats. You advanced on Eddie, who while giving those bats hell, was becoming exhausted. You began to use your own weapons to hinder the bats from further attack. You swung at them with reckless abandon, but rarely missed. You were a good shot with great aim. Deadly. Even though you definitely didn’t look the part. Eddie had taken account of your presence and his distraction caused him to fall to the ground, bats instantly swarming his tired body. “There’s too many!” You cried, trying your hardest to get the bats off Eddie, while simultaneously keeping them from overtaking you. “Y/N! RUN! Please go!” Eddie begged between bites and yelps. “I’m not leaving you! Never. I can’t live without you, Eddie. I’d rather us both die than leave you!” You admitted in between swings. He tried to protest but he was too weak. If you couldn’t get them off of him soon, he wasn’t going to make it. You were exhausted, but couldn’t stop fighting. Because you knew if you did, you’d both die. It was possible to run away, back to the trailer, to Dustin. The bats would be too distracted with Eddie. You’d have a pretty straight shot if you stopped now. But that was never something you even thought to consider, happily choosing death over abandoning the love of your life.
A bat took a deep bite into your shoulder, while another focused on your arm. You screamed in pain, and the bats used your moment of weakness to overtake you. You covered your body over Eddie’s, trying to shield him from further attack. He was half here-half gone. He just stared into your bloodshot (y/e/c) eyes, convinced you were an angel bringing him to heaven. You were sobbing uncontrollably, tears falling onto Eddie’s face. “Why didn’t you go…” he croaked, as several bats attacked your uncovered backside. Nothing could hold a candle to the pain you were experiencing now- not your 4 tattoos, several piercings, or broken bones. You continued to sob as Eddie lay limp on the ground. “Please. Please. Don’t leave me. I can’t-I can’t..I need you.” You begged hysterically. As if some god above had heard your prayers, the bats began falling to the ground, one by one, mewling pathetically. It took you a second to notice the bats had stopped attacking, since the pain hadn’t. You could hardly move, but you mustered all the strength you had left to pull yourself up. “Eddie!” They did it! We can go now! We have to get you help!” Eddie just sighed, not fully able to understand what you were asking of him. “I can’t... I’m too tired.” He admitted lamely. “I know baby, I know.” You tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and kissed his bloody forehead. “But we have to. We have to get home.” You got to your feet and attempted to pick Eddie up. You were strong, especially for a young woman. Much to the dismay of your parents and peers, you took weightlifting in school (Eddie had to cuss out the gym teacher to get them to accept a girl), worked part time helping your uncle’s construction company, and loved to run and hike. Still, your body was torn up and frail after the recent in. You lifted Eddie off the ground with extreme difficulty. He tried to argue, but with his lack of energy it just came out as light moans. Suddenly, a figure was running towards you. You immediately froze, worried there was, of course, a new monster you’d have to face. But as soon as the figure advanced, and you saw his curly hair and ridiculous battle outfit, you let out a sob of relief mixed with anguish. You, of course, didn’t want Dustin down here any longer than necessary, but couldn’t carry Eddie back by yourself. Dustin noticed you were seconds away from dropping Eddie, and sprinted to help you. With Dustin on Eddie’s left, it was much easier to get him back to the trailer. Dustin didn’t say anything at first, knowing you probably needed a minute. “Dustin….”you whimpered. “Thank you. W-We would have died down there.” Dustin would have said normally something along the lines of I told you so, but held his tongue due to your current situation. You weren’t too far from the vine- consumed trailer, but it felt like miles. You were worried, not for yourself in the slightest, but for Eddie. His normally playful smirk and doe eyes were replaced by a distant pained expression. Would you be able to get him help in time? And how in the world would you go about doing that? As much as you hated it, Eddie was still a wanted man. You had no idea the logistics of your plan, too fixed on getting Eddie and Dustin to safety. Dustin dropped one of his arms from Eddie’s limp body and pulled the door of the trailer open.
Ok I’m actually kind of digging this (hope u are too!) so I’m going to continue. Thank you for reading- please ❤️ or reblog if you enjoyed! Wishing you all the best vibes this weekend!
Blessed be
Hope
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[ RONEN RUBINSTEIN, HE/HIM, CIS MAN ] — [ SHILOH ECKHAUS ] is a child of [ THANATOS ] with the power of [ DEATH NEGATION ] . they were born in [ 1994 ] and have been in nemean lion since [ 2010 ] . with the change, they [ HAVE GRADUATED FROM ] the [ STANDARD ] role which makes sense since they’re usually [ READING BIOGRAPHIES & WATCHING NATURE DOCS ] . if you’d like to meet them try the [ MOON ] building .
basics
hometown: boone, north carolina
eye color: blue
hair color: brown
height: 5′10
sexuality: bisexual
birthday: november 7, 1994 ( scorpio )
bio
i think…thanatos has a thing for damaged women, and another thing for women who just want to help others, and ruth eckhaus was both. he draws women in who either hate themselves or can find the good in him, which isn’t easy to find. thanatos was cold and often volatile but there was something in him to love. so she didn’t do anything wrong in falling for the literal personification of death, but she made a mistake when she got pregnant.
even if he had been mortal, ruth never thought he was the kind of man who would stick around, even less likely when the ultrasound revealed she was pregnant with twins. part of her was unsurprised, since he’d mentioned having a twin brother.
the twins were born after a hard, long labor, which ruth swore was ripping her apart inside. but she survived, and she was happy for two healthy babies, because she knew she could never put herself through that again.
she met a man when the twins were still young, who wasn’t bad, especially compared to the father of her children. but he said a similar mysteriousness and she often didn’t know where he was or what he was doing. it got better once they got married, but when the police came knocking asking about his whereabouts on the day a young woman was taken (and later killed) a few miles away, she didn’t have a good answer.
with very little evidence, her husband was sentenced to life in prison, and while she never once wavered in her belief of his innocence, it wasn’t as black and white for shiloh. the prosecution had presented a compelling argument, at least that’s what the jury had thought. and at the age of eight, shiloh might have agreed.
his already tenuous relationship with his step-father became even more strained, visiting prison regularly with his mother and sister, but as he got older, it became his choice and he didn’t often want to be there, in that place, seeing the only father he’d ever known like that.
shiloh had always been a quiet, slightly moody child, which only got worse once his father was sent away and his mother was forced to pick up the slack on top of paying the newly incurred legal fees. since shiloh and ariel had each other, they didn’t always notice how harried their mother was, or how isolated they had become at school, because no matter what they’d always have each other.
when the twins were fourteen, riding bikes but already dreaming of getting their permits, ariel challenged shiloh to a race and set off down the street. she looked behind her shoulder to jeer at him when she was hit by a car. she died almost immediately on impact, by which time the driver was long gone.
shiloh didn’t know about his power yet, or…not really. he’d once seen a dead baby bird, the sight twisting his stomach, a nausea which only grew stronger when the bird suddenly got up and started squawking for its mother. he wasn’t sure why the relief of being wrong about the bird made him feel worse, or why he had a headache for the remainder of the day.
but when he ran over to ariel and watched her breathe her last breaths, he grabbed her hand and begged her not to leave him. he’d never wanted anything so desperately in his life, and after a few minutes of crying, he was starting to feel faint himself. his breathing grew more and more shallow, as if the life was leaving his body, but then he saw ariel inhale. in fact, it was the last thing he saw before he blacked out.
he awoke in a hospital bed next to his sister, who by all accounts, was perfectly fine aside from some cuts and bruises. somehow, shiloh was the one sore all over and struggling to get air into his lungs. they looked at each other, simultaneously understanding what had happened, and quietly agreed not to tell anybody else.
but their mother, knowing the truth of their paternity, was immediately suspicious and terrified, so she sent them off to nemean lion the next year in the hopes that neither of her children would die before her.
random facts
sooooo yeah shiloh is an emo boy but can you blame him, no <3 maybe he’s valid but i’ll only say that once
basically he brought his sister back to life when they were kids and nearly died himself with the energy exerted and he’s never brought another human being back to life since (and doesn’t plan on ever doing it again)
i guess you could say he…respects the circle of life? he doesn’t want to play, ahem, god, so when someone dies he just accepts this as being a part of life. but ariel’s death was so sudden that he didn’t think before bringing her back, nor did he fully know what he was doing
but he’s pretty sure he could never survive without her and he doesn’t actually know, realistically, what he’d do if she ever died again
possible connections
maybe someone he dislikes but is friends with ariel, or vice versa?! they’re both assholes so this seems unrealistic but uwu
that said, someone who wants to be his friend fsr, or just acts like one without him ever actually acknowledging their friendship /:
i suppose he could bond with someone over not knowing what the heck they’re doing here or what to do with their life or ahhhh!!
he’s been at nl for a decade so mb he do have at least one good friend who he’s almost actually kind of vulnerable around and knows him better than most people
someone who just likes to annoy him bc he is no fun but it entertains them to get on his nerves idk u kno the vibe
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About a month after my big brother was born, he and my mom were sleeping together. My mom woke up and didn’t see him, she goes to the kitchen and there she sees her sons bloody hands. He had touched something hot and the flesh on all his fingers had melted. She saw him crying, she didn’t know how long he had been there. Someone came and they went to the hospital. The doctor said the boy had no blood left, my mom begged them to take her blood. They told her that she does not have enough. They quickly took a bit of her blood and found it was a match. They gave my mom a juice box and she went in to give her blood. My dad arrived at the hospital tired and thirsty. He yelled at her about giving blood, he wanted to give his own, but he wasn’t even the same blood type. My mom gave him her juice box to him and went to her mom. She began to feel sick and felt that she was dying. She asked for something to drink but water didn’t help. Her mother pulled the doctor and he immediately gave her a juice box and started intravenous fluids all over her body. My moms mom was ruined over her condition. She thought she was gonna lose her oldest child who she still called “baby.” My moms parents have called her baby from when she was a newborn and they still do today, lovingly.
Dads family always hated my mom. It’s because of my dads moms hatred of my moms mom. That hatred she threw at everyone below her. They constantly tried to get my dad to leave my mom, even going so far as to threaten murder in detail and how they would get away with it. My mom was threatened with murder from my dad and multiple people in his family. Around the time my little sister was born, my dad was a taxi driver at the airport. Someone got into the back seat and pressed a knife to his throat. He could feel it pressing hard against his skin and trachea. This caused insane mood swings and irrational behaviour, and he was having panic attacks behind the wheel. One day my dad wanted goat meat but he wanted to get a whole goat rather than pieces so he got my mom to cut it. She cut it up and put the knives in the sink, and took a nap. She woke up to my dad in a very serious voice saying “what you did today, i was gonna kill you instead of waking you up but I decided no.” My mom in shock asks what did she do. “You left the knives out in the sink, do you want me to kill you?”
Though so much information was kept from me over the years, I always felt something was wrong. I knew my mom was scared, I could feel every threat, everyday. I’m slowly making sense of my past.
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hi okok this is my first time requesting on ur page !!
tws!!: incest,oversimulation,somno,darcyphilla,soft!older brother!ayato <33 (let me know if I missed some tws!)
older brother!ayato with younger sibling!reader who's so sensitive and cries easily !! whenever someone yells at them,they start crying and cant form proper sentences anymore. ayato being the nice older brother he is,he makes them sit on his lap while they cry,reader mind to too fuzzy to notice older brother!ayato getting hard:((
even sometimes,he forces the servants to say something mean to u just to see you cry. it gets his cock so hard and imagines him fucking you while u sob and cry like a helpless baby:((<33
older brother!ayato who fucks you slowly and roughly while you sleep,making sure to wake you up. poor you doesn't know what's going on,and your body hurts!! so you start sobbing while ayato kisses u all over ur face and praises you<333
older brother!ayato who gets mad at u when u push him away. hes ur older brother!! he took care of u while you sobbed and cried like a baby,why are you avoiding him?! he fucks you all night long on his bed while u sob and cry,but hes kind enough to be gentle w u<33..hands gripping your hips while he fucks his cum into u,his body is so close to yours,you can feel his hot breathe on your neck as you sob and cry!!
older brother!ayato who fingers you while you're with him. 2 finger shoved up your pretty little cunt as he moves at a fast pace. you've came so many times...why wont ayato stop? your practically begging for him to stop,its too much and you cant cum anymore!! but older brother ayato says it's okay,you are a good girl and can take it<333
i want ayato to be my older brother so badly:((
-💌 anon!!
tw. bullying, sadism, noncon, drugging (read anons tws asw!)
god, there's nothing like making your pretty little sister wail and hurt her without ever getting your hands dirty. poor baby, did the servants make mean comments again? ayato-nii will make you feel better, have this cup of milk. are you feeling sleeping? here, ayato-nii will tuck you into bed. why does it feel like there's somebody else in bed with you? and when you wake up, there's a suspicious liquid dripping down from your cunny that feels so tingly and sensitive. ayato-nii must know what happened! so when he tells you it's nothing, just means ayato-nii loves you very very much, your silly naive mind can't do anything but accept it!
the way ayato gets angry when your little fists try to get him off you, it doesn't hurt his chest as much as his heart. he's loved you for so long, done oh so much for you and only wanted to stuff you full of cum because you make him so horny. why did you look so perfect asleep, with your pretty pussy basically begging to be filled over and over with his cock? ayato makes sure you know how much you've upset him, but it's okay, you make up for it by being his dear, precious little sister crying as he slips his hard cock into your puffy cunt.
he'll never let you leave his sight or be without him after that, making sure you're always fucked out either from him fucking you awake, asleep, or making you cream on his fingers as you struggle to keep quiet behind the screen of the kamisato estate while receiving guests. ayato always aims to make you lose your composure, tears streaming down your face as you cover your mouth, cunny overstimulated from how his fingers roughly pump your walls and tease at your clit until you shake, robes all stained from orgasms.
#💌 anon <3#ayato <3#tw. dark content#genshin smut#genshin impact smut#genshin x reader#ayato x reader#ayato smut#tw. incest#tw. noncon#tw. somno#tw. drugging
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little bit of poison in me
characters: dabi | todoroki touya, takami keigo | hawks
genre: smut and angst
notes: okay FINALLY!! very loosely inspired by tag you’re it by melanie martinez!! uhh dabi’s a drug dealer, keigo’s in his third year of university and a track star, reader’s in her first year of university. please, please pay attention to the warnings below! if keigo’s your comfort character and you cannot handle him being physically abusive and a drug addict, then you might wanna sit this one out! promise he’ll be painted in a more sympathetic light in part two. | aaah dedicating this to @rat-suki, because ur the only one who’s actually known the details of this fic since november, and because i put a lil something inspired by new moon in there for u ehehe <333 | title credit: tag you’re it by melanie martinez
warnings: 18+, noncon/dubcon, physical abuse, drug use & abuse + graphic depictions of addiction, mindbreak, overstimulation, manipulation, lowkey yandere vibes (which will get worse), daddy kink, a brother a lil too obsessed with his sister + questionably close sibling relationship, generally toxic relationships (possessiveness, jealousy), rough sex, semi-public sex, cumplay/cum feeding, minimal prep, degradation/dumbification, choking, kinda brat taming???
words: 14.8k
synopsis:
“Do you wanna come home with Daddy, princess?”
He’s caging you between his body and the murky convenience store window as he asks, both palms pressed flat against the grimy glass.
No. You shouldn’t. You know you shouldn’t, can almost hear your brother’s voice in the back of your mind telling you not to. But you’re too enticed in sapphire to care, drawn into pretty, almost glittering blue fire, letting the flames lick your skin as you immerse yourself in it, deeper and deeper and deeper, and allowing it to wrap itself around you, to consume you, to knock the very breath out of you as you gaze into it.
“Okay,”
It’s well past midnight, but the moon is still hanging high in the sky, illuminating the dingy shopping mall parking lot, its reflection gleaming on the wet, cracked concrete. Breathless little laughs and squeals of surprise and pleasure ring out among the vast empty space, your own voice echoing around you.
“Gonna get ya, baby,”
He’s chasing after you, legs longer than yours, faster than yours, mischievous little growls getting caught in his chest as you daintily leap away from him, just out his grasp again, the tips of his fingers grazing the soft linin of your dress.
“No!” you giggle, pushing your burning thighs to keep running just a bit longer, propelling you forward.
But he’s getting closer and closer with each pound of his boots against the pavement, encroaching on you more and more with each tiny gasp exhaled through your parted lips.
Eventually, he catches you, like he always does, large hands wrapping around your hips as strong arms pull you backwards against a solid chest. You’re both panting, chests heaving with exertion, bubbles of laughter escaping your throats.
“Tag,” he breathes, hot breath curling around the shell of your ear. “You’re it,”
His arms encircle you, holding you tightly, your own arms covering his, little fingers digging into the skin of his forearms almost possessively as he uses his strength and bodyweight to guide you towards the car—a 1959 Cadillac Eldorado Biarritz that runs like shit and guzzles gas like no tomorrow. But it’s pretty, and he loves it, with all its chrome and argyle blue, glittering in the moonlight.
“You’re being bad, princess,” the words are mumbled against the skin behind your ear, and you can feel the smirk on his lips. “Good girls don’t run away from their Daddies like that,”
And he says the word with so much disdain, cruel and mocking, making you feel sick for liking it.
“Baaad girl,” he whispers, dragging the word out.
A tiny pout settles on your face, eyebrows knitting. “Am not,”
“Are too,”
“Am not,”
“You are,” he chuckles, pressing you against the damp metal of his car as you finally reach it, his body still draped over yours. “What? You gonna fight me on it?”
Squirming a little in his grasp, you turn to face him, a playful glint shining in your glassy eyes as you nudge your nose against his. “I just might!”
“Hah,” the breath of air washes over your face, scorching and sweet, a stark contrast to the humid, cool air surrounding you, causing your exposed flesh to break out into chills. “I’d like to see you try, dollface,”
“Oh, I’m sure you would,” you murmur, yelping when his fingers dig into the supple flesh of your ass through your dress, grabbing a healthy handful and squeezing in retaliation.
“Mmm,” he hums nonchalantly, pushing his forehead against yours, eyes nothing but gaping pupils outlined by a thin ring of sapphire. “You gonna show me?” his rough voice fades into a whisper, unblinking eyes holding yours steadily. Calloused hands are sliding up your thighs now, slipping underneath the thin material of your dress and taking the hem with them.
“N-Not here,” you breathe, trying and failing to pull back from him, eyes widening in alarm as you feel his fingers hook in the waistband of your panties.
“Yes, here,” he responds, voice smooth as velvet as soft lips drag along your neck, sharp teeth sinking into your flesh like a hot knife slicing through butter.
Panic is beginning to rise in your chest, your throat closing up, and you choke a little on your words, shaking your head frantically. “Please, Dabi, no, we could just—”
“Wow, you really want me to bruise that pretty ass of yours,” he smirks, cutting you off and pulling back to gaze at you lazily, lips glimmering with saliva.
“No, I—”
“Especially with how much you’re saying no today,” he tuts his tongue in disapproval. “Such a bad girl; a silly, little, stupid, bad girl,”
Each word is punctuated with a sharp slap to your scantily clad ass, each bringing with them a sharp sting that you can hear, echoing out among the parking lot.
“Not bad,” you whimper, eyes shutting tightly against the familiar burn of tears. “Not bad, j-just wanna—”
“Wanna what?” he teases, voice mocking yours as his palm collides with your ass again. “Huh?”
“W-Wanna—Want you to fuck me right,” you rush to say, the words exhaled as a singular huff of breath.
“Oh?” he pulls back slightly, eyes searching your face, his own features contorted with false concern. “Is that so?”
You nod quickly, eagerly, and he can see it in your eyes, how desperately you want him to buy your lie.
But you know he hasn’t the moment that trademark smirk returns to his face, mouth curling up at the edges as he leans forward, lips moving against your ear. “I think that’s a boldfaced lie, babygirl,” his voice is low, sinister, dangerous, traces of amusement sown into his tone. “I think it’s because you don’t want anyone to see how much of a little whore you truly are,”
“D-Dabi, please,” you whimper, vision blurry with tears as you paw at his jacket, pleading with him.
He thinks it’s so cute when you beg, his silence imploring you to continue, urgently rambling on in your quest to convince him.
“I-I want you to really fuck me; I want you to leave b-bruises all over my body, I want to feel you in my tummy, I want you t-to stuff me so full of cum that it goes to my brain and makes me stupid, please Daddy, I want—”
Slim fingers wrap around your neck and squeeze, forcing a cry of surprise from your lips and effectively cutting you off. “I’m gonna make sure you remember those words, sweetheart,”
✰ ✰ ✰
The thump of your own heart echoes in your ears as the Cadillac Eldorado thrums under your body, the leather sticking to the bare skin of your thighs.
“Open,” he demands, delivering a harsh slap to the thigh nearest to him, eyes never leaving the road as his foot presses down, car accelerating. Your thighs obey immediately, spreading as far as they possibly can in the cramped space, knees knocking against the door and center console box.
A rough hand, decorated with callouses and scabs, kneads the flesh once before sliding up, up, up, and then hooking in the elastic of your panties, Dabi spitting out a curse as he lets it snap back against your skin.
“Take those off,” he seethes, aggressively ripping his hand away from you as if he’s aggravated that you’re even wearing them at all. Your dress hitches up around your waist in your haste to obey, little fingers catching in the lacy material as your hips squirm, seatbelt cutting into your flesh, wiggling a little as you pull the dainty material down your legs.
He’s already holding his hand out expectantly and you press them into it, waiting for his fingers to close around the garment before taking your hand back. He feels them, rolling the fabric around in his palm, between his fingers, chuckling darkly as he chucks them over his shoulder a moment later, onto the dirty ground of the backseat.
Those were your favourite, but you know better than to say anything, forcing your expression to stay neutral, to keep your nose from wrinkling up in distaste.
“They’re wet, but not nearly wet enough,” he tsks as if he’s disappointed, hand finding your thigh again. This time, they part instantly, without any verbal prompting, hips pushing towards his palm as it skims the skin of your inner thigh.
“Now, I’m gonna play with this cute lil clit of yours,” he begins, fingers brushing the sensitive nub, words tumbling from his lips slowly, lazily, unhurried, as if you’re stupid, as if you need an ample amount of time for each word to sink in.
It makes your pussy throb, and the borderline malicious smirk that spreads across his face tells you that he felt it, too.
Speaking through his smirk, he continues in the same patronizing voice. “And you—you’re going to be Daddy’s good little girl and get nice and wet for him, so he doesn’t hurt his cock when he fucks you. Do you think you can do that for me, sweetheart?”
Yes Daddy, of course Daddy, anything for you, Daddy.
It’s torture in the most delightful way, coarse pads of his fingers just barely grazing your clit, just enough for you to feel it, just enough for you to want—no, need—more. Heat, thick and sticky, pools in the pit of your stomach, thighs straining to open impossibly wider, edges of the car’s interior digging into your knees as you desperately try to shift your hips, to press further into his touch, to evoke anything harder than these teasing, feathery touches.
Blunt nails sink into the tender flesh of your inner thigh, hard enough to make you yelp, entire body flinching from the sudden pain. “Big girls use their words,” he chastises, voice fading from a growl into a pleasant, light tone.
“Please, Daddy, I-I want more,” you whimper, hips still trying to catch your clit on his fingers, on his palm. “Touch me more,”
The hum that vibrates in his throat has your heart sinking, corners of your mouth tugging down as you blink against the sting of disappointment—you know that hum, know it all too well, know all of Dabi’s bizarre mannerisms at this point and what they mean for you. And that hum, the one that only lasts for a moment, the one that’s barely a noise at all, the one that doesn’t even sound like he’s considering anything, means no.
His eyes don’t leave the road in front of him, despite the fact that his car is going faster, and faster, and faster, whipping through the empty city streets, neon buildings and harsh florescent lights becoming nothing but a blur. And if it weren’t for the hard lump straining against the black denim of his jeans, you’d figure him disinterested; facial features relaxed, breathing normal, entirely unresponsive to the pathetic little noises he’s so effortlessly pulling from you.
It ignites a fire in your chest, blazing with the need to make him react, to make him pay attention to you.
Wearing your best pout, you arch your back a little, the action shoving your hips towards his hand again. “Daddy, Daddy,” you whine, low and needy in the back of your throat, looking at him with wide, pleading eyes. “Please, touch me more? Please, Daddy, I want it so bad, want your cock so bad, please, help me get wetter? Wanna be dripping for you, Daddy, I wanna be soaking for you,”
“Fuck,” he breathes, smirk growing into a full grin as he glances at you from the side of his eye. “Such a brat,” he shakes his head, through the grin is still present on his face as he finally presses two fingers against the swollen bud, rubbing slow, hard circles into it. “You better be drenched for me by the time we get home, you little bitch,”
✰ ✰ ✰
Large hands are on your body as the two of you stumble up the stairs, nimble fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips, obscene sucking and slurping amplified by the stairwell, bouncing back to your own ears, saliva slicked lips slipping and sliding together messily as teeth clack together, practically tripping over each other’s feet and fucking Christ he needs you, he needs you now, his cock hurts, goddamn it.
And you’d be lying through your teeth if you said you didn’t absolutely love it when he gets like this, all clingy and needy and desperate, hushed little whines catching in the back of his throat, fading from deep, rumbling growls as rough hands paw at you.
A sharp gasp is knocked from your chest as he slams you against the wall on the landing of floor three with such force that your head ricochets off the concrete, your resounding cry silenced by Dabi’s lips, tongue invading your mouth as he swallows your beautiful little noises of pain.
You can feel his cock pressed up against your hip, hot and hard and throbbing through the denim that conceals it as he grinds against you, fervent, eager, impatient.
That panic is bubbling up in your throat again, bitter and acidic and eroding, rendering your voice weak and frail as scabbed knuckles drag across your bare thighs, inching higher and higher.
“Da-Daddy, wait,”
“No,” he growls, biting down on your shoulder hard enough to break the skin. “I’m done waiting,” hands are rucking up your dress. “You made me wait that whole fucking car ride,” sharp hipbones keep your thighs spread. “I can’t wait any longer,” the clinking of his heavy belt buckle echoes throughout the stairwell, sending chills pebbling across your skin.
And then he’s forcing himself into you, shoving his cock into your tight little hole, a choked cry bouncing off the dirty white walls as your eyes squeeze shut, tears leaking from the edges.
The stretch is magnificent, little cunt aching as it sucks in his thick cock, and you swear you can feel the burning in your belly, little pinpricks of pain shooting through your gut.
“G-Gonna tear me in half,” you wail, head falling forward, forehead bumping against his.
“Shh, baby, Daddy’s got you,” a callous laugh leaves his lips after he spits out the nickname, the singular word filled with such derision it must sting his tongue. Large hands hoist you up, and your legs immediately latch around his waist, seeking comfort in the monster that hurt you.
“Daddy, Daddy,” Tears drip down your cheeks as you bury your face in his shoulder, the word escaping your lips in tiny half-sobs catching in your throat, little fingers curling against the worn leather of his jacket.
And he can’t help but soften a little as you weep into his neck, thinks it’s so cute that you need him so bad, your little stuttered breaths hot against his neck as you cling to him, reminding him that he is the only man that can make you feel like this; he is the only man that can make you cry while simultaneously finding solace in his embrace. It makes his blood surge, sends cinders searing up his spine, gives him a high better than any other drug every could, and he finds himself hushing you gently, twitching cock buried in your cute lil cunt, snugly pressed against your cervix.
“Okay, okay,” he’s saying as his hips begin to pump, slow and languid. “Quiet, Daddy’s gonna make it feel good, alright? Daddy’s here, Daddy’s gonna make it go away,”
The sweetest, airiest little mewls of Daddy, yes, Daddy, soak into the inky skin of his neck, sandwiched between uneven hitched breaths. He’s gaining speed with each thrust, though, working up a steady rhythm that has you practically bouncing on his cock, little wails of pain fading into whimpers of pleasure. The combination is dizzying, infecting your mind with a haze that is only Dabi, surrounded by him, immersed in him—glowing sapphire and burning hickory and spicy nicotine—unable to quell the little noises spilling from your throat, each one louder than the next with each bump against your cervix and drag against that spot.
“That feel better, princess?” he breathes out, pausing just to readjust his grip on your ass—to angle your hips just right, chuckling at your selfish, needy whine—and then he’s drilling his cock into you, head pounding against the spot that has his name escaping your lips in high pitched squeals that break in your throat, heavy belt buckle clanking against the wall with each of his thrusts.
It sends sparks of mind-numbing pleasure burning through your abdomen, your chest, straight to your very core and collecting there, each spark adding to the growing fire that’s beginning to blaze, followed by intense spears of pain, slicing through your gut and down the muscles of your thighs, legs beginning to quiver as ankles hook tighter, tighter, tighter, the heels of your sneakers digging into his back dimples, trying to get him closer, closer, closer, desperately begging for more, more, more.
Yet it’s all so much, too much, please, Daddy—the harsh sound of metal colliding with concrete mingling with your pathetic whines and his panted breaths, rough whimpers catching deep in his chest, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard a more beautiful sound.
“C’mon, babygirl,” he gasps, pace never slowing, never faltering once, even though there’s glistening dewdrops of sweat decorating his hairline, inky strands beginning to stick to the skin of his forehead. “Be a good girl and cum for Daddy, cum before someone catches you being such a sweet little—God, Christ—a sweet little slut for me,”
And your cunt submits, would never dare to disobey a direct command from its master, from its owner, clenching around him as you cream all over his cock, a sharp cry ripping up your throat as your nails scrabble against leather clad shoulders.
A growl rumbles, deep and dark and dangerous in his chest, as his hips piston a few more times before they still, tips of his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass, branding his name in tiny blotches of navy and violet as his cock throbs, coating your insides with spurts of thick cum.
Head falling forward, his forehead collides with yours, chests heaving and breathing laboured. And he can’t help the little chuckle he huffs out as you wiggle your hips a little, eyes still closed as you rock in little motions against him, clit catching on his pubic bone.
Needy little bitch.
But he isn’t nearly done with you yet, because that desire, thick and sticky in the very pit of his stomach, only wants more, insatiable and voracious, desperate for more of your whines, more of your tears, more of your cunt.
You’re gonna make good on all those words you spewed in the parking lot, baby, he’s nearly snarling at you, cutting off your whiny complaints as he drags you up the final flight of stairs, stopping halfway to haul you over his shoulder with a huff and a deft slap to your ass, carrying you the rest of the way to his apartment.
“Dress, off. Now.” He orders as he throws you onto his mattress, pulling his shirt over his head, belt buckle jingling as he walks, still hanging undone.
And then he’s crawling over your naked body, lips attacking yours, smashing and smacking and slurping, a large hand wrapping around your wrists as he shoves his tongue into your mouth, laving over yours in slow, deliberate drags, pinning your wrists against the cold cracked drywall behind his nearly bare, minimalistic bed, squeezing hard enough to grind the bones together between a singular rough palm—a silent warning—and forcing a yelp from your throat into his.
“Don’t move them,” his lips mumble the command against yours before he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, between sharp gleaming teeth that bite down hard, sinking into the soft flesh and refusing to release until he tastes copper, the tip of his tongue tracing the harsh indents left behind, licking at your lip once more before pulling away completely.
“I want you to leave bruises all over my body!” he mimics, voice absurdly high as lips skim the curve of your neck, tongue darting out to trace along your collarbones. “Isn’t that what you said, baby?”
But you can’t answer, too busy sucking on your now swollen lip, trying to soothe the incessant throbbing as metal stains your tongue. That’s disrespectful, you think you hear him growl into your unmarred skin before something sharp pierces your nipple, clamping down around it and tugging. A resounding cry tears through your throat as your body instinctually bows off the bed, pressing further into him, a muffled snicker vibrating against your chest before his tongue flicks, licks, slobbers, thick strings of saliva glimmering in the dim light as he pulls away, breaking and slapping against his chin.
“Answer me next time I ask you a fucking question,” The words are spit so harshly they slice into your skin, head nodding fervently before he’s even finished speaking, blinking the bleariness from your eyes. Smoldering sapphire holds your gaze for a moment, burning into your very soul—digging, prying, searching, scrutinizing, his breathing slow, calm, controlled with each deep rise and fall of his bare chest.
You aren’t sure what it is he’s looking for as he peers into the depths of your eyes, but you don’t dare let your gaze stray from his, don’t dare blink, don’t dare breathe until he breaks the spell, blinking once as his lips curl up into a wicked smirk.
“I’m gonna turn your body into a work of art,” he promises you, voice low and guttural, forcing thorns of ice up your spine as lips drag across your jaw.
And he does, paints little galaxies across your skin with his tongue and his lips, asymmetrical blotches of blues and greys and purples, ivory bones scraping against your flesh, signing his name into his masterpiece in deep, dark indents of crimson and violet.
It aches and it pulses and it stings, glittery trails of salt water staining your cheeks, tiny shimmering droplets clinging to your clumped, spiky lashes, adding the finishing touches on the greatest piece he’s ever created.
And it’s so pretty, you’re so pretty when you’re like this, baby, covered in navy and plum and carmine, and, fuck, it’s a shame you won’t stay like this.
It seems he’s in a trance for a moment, in awe of his craftsmanship, of what he’s produced, breathing laboured as shining azure eyes drift over your body, slowly, purposefully, as if he’s memorizing every single nick, bite, scrape, bruise, burning the image into his brain forever.
His gaze floats back up to yours, holding it for a moment, pupils big and gaping and swallowing you whole—before something snaps, breaks, and he comes back to himself, remembers why he did it.
Narrowing slightly, his eyes darken, that sadistic smirk returning to his lips. And then he’s shoving his cock into you again, hard and leaking and the prettiest red you’ve ever seen, cute little cunt stretching around him for the second time tonight.
But little girls who act like brats deserve to get fucked like brats, he tells you in a snarl, slender fingers collaring your neck and squeezing slowly, slowly, slowly, crushing the column of your throat.
Everything’s beginning to grow hazy, vision sliding in and out of focus as those calloused hands continue to tighten, and tighten, and tighten. He looks like some sort of sick angel as he looms above you, nothing more than a shadow of sharp edges and smooth curves, inky spikes and glowing sapphire, haloed by the weak neon light that spills in through grimy windows. Jutting bones prod the soft flesh of your inner thighs, carving out a space just for them as his hips snap viciously, relentlessly, obstinately.
And it’s all overwhelming, overstimulating on every front, uncontrollable tears streaming from your eyes as you choke roughly on your own sobs, each one being forced from your chest by your Daddy’s harsh thrusts, only to get caught on the palm pressed to your airway, ears ringing from the slap of skin against skin overlapping those harsh words spit at you in his falsely saccharine voice.
Aw, no, baby, wispy words caressing your cheek as they float by, eyes starting to roll back in your head. Don’t pass out on me, dollface. I want you awake when I fill your cunt with cum.
The pressure around your throat lets up just a hint, and you wheeze in air, a rush of cold flooding your body. You can feel it, that contrasting, familiar heat scorching the pit of your stomach, beginning to curl in on itself more, and more, and more with each pump of his hips, until it explodes, your body arching off the mattress, unintentionally pressing into the hand adorning your neck, restricting your air entirely.
The chuckle that leaves his lips as you choke yourself is dark, would send spears of ice slicing through your veins if you weren’t otherwise focused on trying to fill your lungs with air. Nothing leaves your mouth other than a few choked whines, barely more than a huff of light breath.
But his hips don’t slow, and he’s glaring down at you with parted lips and lidded eyes, pupils gaping, so large you’re unable to detect even the slightest hint of blue outlining them—nothing but big black orbs, absorbing everything in their vision, sucking everything from you, every hitched sob and soft whine and gorgeous wince, each time he pounds against your cervix.
And it’s how your looking up at him—with those gleaming, adoring eyes and that blissful, fucked out grin—that has him cumming with a shuddered f-fuck, forcing his eyes to stay open as he pumps you full of thick cum, desperate to catalogue every little expression that crosses your face, the way your eyes flutter slightly, the way your neck arches, the tiniest little moan slipping through chapped lips as his cock pulses inside of you.
You must pass out for a second, Dabi’s calloused palm lightly tapping against your cheek as he murmurs to you in that sinful, silky voice, sugared sentiments twining around your exhausted body.
Wake up, princess. Daddy isn’t done playing with you yet.
Words tumble past your lips in a mumble, though you aren’t quite sure what you’re saying—everything feels hazy, like you’re gazing through a thin cloud of smoke, and despite the fact that you can barely move, your body feels light, almost floaty in a way, entirely numb to the immense pain it has endured thus far.
Two fingers, coated in thick, gleaming cream, are thrust into your gasping mouth, tongue met with the salty, bitter taste of his cum. You cough around the sudden intrusion, immediately obey when he orders you to clean, sluggish tongue sliding up and lapping at and slipping between them, sucking the digits free of cum.
Good girl, he leans away and your heart flutters weakly at the praise, saliva slicked fingers dipping into your hole again to gather more.
“C’mon,” he breathes as he brings his fingers to your mouth again, sticky viscous glops collected on his fingers. They catch in the dim light streaming through the window, a unique mixture of pale moonbeams and hazy neon, cum almost glittering, almost pretty. “You wanted me so bad, didn’t you?” your head’s moving—nodding, you think, you can’t really tell, breathing shallow as your eyes belatedly follow his glistening fingers—and he smirks down at you. “Then eat my fucking cum,”
Lips part instantly, mouth falling open as your tongue lolls out, eyes drifting up to his and pleading mutely, begging for the substance—the very essence of him—and nearly moaning when he drags his fingers across the saliva coated muscle, curling and sucking his digits back into the heat of your mouth.
And he’s fucking high off of it all, pupils blown to hell, outlined by the thinnest ring of cobalt, barely detectable, visible only when it catches in the moonlight.
A lumpy pile of denim sits abandoned and bunched up near the end of the bed—he must’ve kicked his pants off at some point, though you don’t remember when—and his cock’s hard again, head brushing your inner thigh. It’s hard for you to tear your gaze from it, fleeting thoughts of stamina and impressive grazing through your mind, turning to smoke the moment you try to latch onto them.
He notices, of course—you’ve been staring at it for nearly a minute now, glazed eyes unblinking, soft little pants passing through barely parted lips. But it’s the way you’re staring at it—in the purest, unadulterated form of desire—that makes it jump, twitching a little against your thigh. You think you hear your Daddy breathe out a curse, think his rough fingers brush some hair back from your drenched forehead, think he says something along the lines of how much he fucking loves you, but in your dreamlike state, you can’t be sure.
Because then rough hands are on you, manhandling you as whatever trance he had fallen into yet again snaps once more.
“We’re gonna put that pretty, empty head of yours to good use!” he’s saying almost enthusiastically as he hoists your boneless body up, propping you up against his chest and securing you with a strong arm wrapped around your waist. “Whaddya think about that, hmm, princess? Want Daddy to use your little skull as his own personal cumdump? Huh?” lithe fingers squeeze your cheeks so hard your lips pucker up, a high-pitched whine getting caught in your throat. “That’s all it’s good for anyway, isn’t it?”
You try to nod, but all your head wants to do is flop back against his shoulder.
“Oh baby,” he cooks mockingly, jutting his inky bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout. “I thought that was what you wanted?”
“T’is!” you mumble through his grip, drool beginning to collect in the corners of your scrunched mouth, dribbling down your chin. Gazing at him through the corner of your watery eyes, your resolve hardens, doing your best to hold your exhausted body up on your own, expression steeling as you force your woozy head to nod as best you can in his bruising grasp.
“Yeah?” he breathes, mouth curving into a dangerous smirk before his lips are at your ear, voice dropping an octave lower. “You’re fucking stubborn, y’know that? Stubborn little brat, just like your bullheaded brute of a brother,”
And then he’s pushing you down, shoving your head into the mattress and pulling your hips up, a hiss spit through your teeth as he purposefully presses into the fresh bruises.
Your poor little pussy aches, fucked open and raw by his cock, but you are stubborn—you can’t help it, it runs in your blood—exhilarated by the challenge and pushing your hips back weakly towards him.
Your Daddy chuckles behind you, but it’s one of those annoyed chuckles, one of those disbelieving chuckles, one of those chuckles that consists of an audacious smirk, quick short nodding that’s more to himself than anyone else, and a tongue running along his top teeth, sucking on the bones, before it fades from his face completely, replaced with scorn in an instant, eyes cold and jaw clenched as he delivers a harsh backhand to your ass.
Then his body’s blanketing yours, chest hot and heavy against your back, lips moving against the shell of your ear.
“Oh, you really want me to break you, don’t you?”
No, truly, you don’t, but you grit your teeth, eyes shut tightly against the sting of a fresh wave of tears, trying to stop your head from involuntarily shaking no.
He laughs again, this time mean and sharp and full of malice, as he straightens up, lining his cock up with your hole.
“Nah, nah,” he’s saying as he pushes in, and God, it still hurts, it still stretches you, reopening little sutures created in the stairwell. “I think you do—Actually, I know you do. And Daddy knows best, right?”
Yes, of course, Daddy knows best, Daddy always knows best.
And it burns, that relentless snap of his hips, driving his cock into you with deep growls and grunts, with such force that it’s jostling you up the mattress, little hands planting themselves in a pitiful attempt to press back against him, to keep yourself in one place. Every muscle in your arms screams at the effort, stiff and rigid from being held, kept, still and obedient against the wall for an extended period of time.
The dreaminess has faded again, leaving behind a dull haze, and it all just hurts. It seems to come in bouts, inexplicable waves of numbness and pain, alternating sporadically and sprinkled with spikes of intense pleasure, a potent mix of chemicals swirling in your brain, lust and desire and terror and anguish burning through your veins.
You’re sobbing into the mattress now, fingers curling tightly in his soft black sheets as your bleary vision begins to darken at the edges, mumbling out something almost in a chant—his name, you think, though you’re not sure, it all sounds muffled to your ringing ears—vibrations of your voice getting caught in your throat, hitching with your sobs and the rough piston of his hips.
It’s building again, licks of fire scalding hot against the walls of your stomach, the temperature rising with each drag of his cock against that spot, until you’re sure the flames are going to engulf you from the inside out.
Little squeaks, poor imitations of moans, escape your lips, interspersed with your pathetic wails. He’s speaking once more—you can feel it, his chest reverberating against yours, lips moving against your ear again. Something rumbles, rattles, deep and dark and dangerous at the very core of his body, and then he’s tangling a hand in your hair and tugging, hauling you up, a choked cry slipping from your lips.
It pulls you from unconsciousness’s grasp, just for a moment, clears the mist from your mind as he snarls against your ear, taking the cartilage between his teeth and biting down, hard.
“Thought I told you to answer me the next time I ask you a fucking question,” he breathes, and he almost sounds gleeful, contradicting his voice, so rough, so hoarse, so hot.
You did, Daddy, you did, you’re trying to say, trying to nod in the vice grip he has on your strands, the words jumbled and muddled and near incomprehensible, wet and messy and coated in spit.
“But I guess my—Christ—my cock makes you too stupid to do that, huh?” he’s panting now, in time with his thrusts, huffs of breath sweltering against your already sticky skin. “What would your goody-two-shoes brother say if he could see you, hmm? If he could see how fucking dumb his little slut of a baby sister goes from my cum,”
It’s too much, too much, Daddy, too much, the brutal pounding of his cockhead against your swollen cervix and the continuous stream of strained, husky, filthy words he’s spewing in your ear and the sting in your scalp and that spot, that spot, that spot—
It hits you so hard it’s painful, knocks what little breath you had right out of you as your entire body convulses on his cock, little cunt clenching and gushing as you weep Da-Daddy! over and over and over, the only word your soupy brain is capable of conceiving, body going pliant in his arms as your head lolls back against his shoulder, struggling to keep your eyes open while he continues to drive his cock into you, hard and fast and messy.
He cums with the prettiest broken whine you’ve ever heard—or at least, you think he does, entire body gone numb once again, think you feel his hips juddering and his cock pulsing, think you feel that familiar, thick substance filling you to the brim. Everything is still for a moment, his chest heaving against your arched back, and then he laughs malevolently, though it sounds far away, even though you can feel the sound vibrating against you.
“That ought’a teach you to say no to me again,” he spits harshly in your ear, giving one more hard yank on your hair before letting go completely, your abused body collapsing in a heap on his mattress.
It feels like you’re more Dabi than yourself now, with his name written all over your body, signed by his mouth, his teeth, his fingers, and his cum leaking out of you, drying hard and sticky on your thighs, his scent being all you can smell, all you can taste, heady and fiery. And as you crawl into the sweet embrace of unconsciousness—finally, finally—you think about just how much can change, and how fast it does, in a mere 92 days.
✰ ✰ ✰
Three months earlier
The air is hazy with thick smoke, heavy enough to dilute the already dim yellow light shining from the bare lightbulbs overhead. The stench of cheap beer, weed and sweat stings your nose, and it wrinkles reflexively.
You aren’t supposed to be here.
Throbbing music radiates through the house, causing the structure to tremble in time with the beat, the dirty drywall you’re currently pressed up against quivering in response. It’s so loud it hurts, vibrating through the warped linoleum floors and through your body. It makes you shiver in disgust, as if it’s some sort of parasite worming it’s way through your veins in timed intervals.
Your brother would kill you if he knew.
You’ve been backed into a corner—literally, surrounded by three college boys you’ve never seen before as they drunkenly leer at you. They’re a year or two older than you, glassy half-lidded eyes scanning your body in a way that makes you feel filthy, in a way that makes you want to scrub your skin raw to rid it of their slimy gazes.
They’re mumbling out something, speaking amongst themselves in low voices, peppered with raspy snickers that make your skin crawl. Pressing further into the corner, you quickly wrack your mind for something—anything—that will get them to part just a little, that’ll crack the wall of bodies you’re now surrounded by just enough for you to barrel through. Adrenaline begins to surge through your veins as you gear up, drawing in a deep breath, and—
“Whadda we have here?”
The men part immediately at the sound of that low voice, smooth as melted chocolate, revealing a figure with spiky onyx hair, an involuntary gasp escaping your lips the moment your eyes collide with sapphire.
“Ah, I thought it was you,” he smirks, peering down at you with a gaze so intense it feels like your body’s been set aflame. “What’s a good little girl like you doing in a place like this, hmm?”
Dabi.
This wasn’t the first time you had seen him, remembering the man with the pretty cobalt eyes and inky hair standing under a singular flickering lamp post outside of the tiny house you and your brother share, or lingering on the threshold of the front door, eyes lazily darting around the space as he waits.
He never comes inside. Your brother doesn’t allow it.
You’ve barely spoken any words to him, always responding to his polite greetings with shy nods or little waves.
But this is the first time you’re meeting him properly.
Feet bolted to the floor, you try to respond, only able to emit a pathetic little squeak.
He huffs out a condescending chuckle, gazing down the bridge of his nose at you, head tilted up just a touch, lidded crystal eyes glittering in the dim light. That trademark smirk spreads into something darker, something almost ominous in nature, something that whispers in your ear that it knows something you don’t, sending sharp spikes of ice shooting up your spine.
“Does your brother know you’re here?”
You shake your head quickly, eyes widening in panic as anxiety begins to rise in your throat. He isn’t about to rat you out, is he?
“Thought so. Dunno why I asked,” he heaves a heavy sigh, chest rising with the force of it, as if he’s extremely exasperated, as if you’re some sort of child lost at a supermarket and he’s bringing you back to your parents. “Alright, let’s go,”
A hand extends, hanging limp in the smoky air for a moment, waiting, before Dabi sighs again with a roll of his eyes, latching onto your wrist and all but dragging you out of the corner, maneuvering through the mass of sweaty bodies crowding the dingy living room.
“We’re leaving?” you ask dumbly as Dabi approaches the back door, hand still wrapped in a firm grasp around your arm.
“Yep. My work here is done, and you,” he tuts his tongue with a slow shake of his head, hidden smile on his face. “Your work here is done, too,”
“W-Where are we going?” you ask as the two of you stumble outside, shivering a little as the cool, fresh air hits your heated skin.
“No idea. Away from this place,” he looks back at your briefly, giving your wrist a soft squeeze before dropping it. “You tryna put your brother in an early grave or somethin’?”
A frown tugs at the corners of your lips as you shake your head again. “No, I just—”
“You shouldn’t have been there,” his words echo your thoughts from before. “You were in some real danger for a second, y’know that?”
“I-I know. Thank you for, uh, s-saving me, Sir,”
“Sir?” his eyes are bright with mirth, shining despite the weak light provided by the waxing moon. The smirk returns, and you feel it again—like he’s plotting something, like he’s got some big secret he’s hiding, a plan, something up his sleeve. “Sir is nice, but I think there’s another name you’d rather call me,”
Eyebrows knit in confusion, your eyes drift to the ground, mulling over his words. Something else you’d rather call him? Like what? You’ve only seen the guy a few—
“Still have no idea why you haven’t fucked him yet,” one of your friends muses as Dabi’s exiting his car, eyes watching him lazily from where you’re both seated on the front lawn.
“Keigo would murder me, literally,” you giggle a little, glancing over at the man with inky hair before looking away again, down at your lap as little fingers thread through the grass beneath you and shaking your head.
“Shame,” she sighs, twirling her sticky pink lollipop idly, the candy catching in the sun. “He’s Daddy as hell,”
A sharp gasp leaves your parted lips, eyes snapping back to her face and holding them for a moment before the two of you burst into a fit of giggles, your fingers tapping her bare knee in a silent warning that he’s approaching.
Heavy black boots collide with the front stone path, buckles jingling daintily, his head perking up in a catlike manner, trademark smirk forming on his lips as you both urgently try to calm your laughter.
“Ladies,” he nods with a wink as he passes, little giggles cutting off instantaneously, the two of you mumbling shy greetings in response.
That was the only time you had ever spoken to him, until now.
“Oh my God,” you whimper, eyes squeezing shut in embarrassment. He did hear.
He chuckles slightly, dropping the subject with a shake of his head.
“So. Where to?” he asks expectantly, feet slowing to a stop on the cracked sidewalk as he taps out a cigarette. He whips a silver Zippo open, sharp twinge of metal swiping against metal cutting though the silent nighttime air. “Home?”
A shrill bubble of incredulous laughter escapes your throat. Dabi glances over at you, amused, raising an eyebrow in question as he cups the flame and brings it to his lips.
“Do you want to put my brother in an early grave?” you snort.
“I could just walk you to the street, you know,” he rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile on his face. “Precious niisan wouldn’t even need to see me,”
You shake your head, idly kicking a rock with the toe of your shoe as you begin walking again. The campus is beginning to bleed into the city now, engulfing the two of you in familiar florescent light. “No, I can’t go home,”
“Why?”
“I…” you trail off, heat flooding your cheeks. “I, um, told him I’d be staying at a friend’s place tonight,”
Dabi gasps mockingly. “Baby, you lied to your niisan?”
Knocking your shoulder against his arm, you scoff, trying to hide the stupid smile the nickname conjures. “Oh, shut up,”
“Getting bold now, I see,” he hums to himself. “Could’a swore just a few minutes ago you were scared of me,”
“N-Not scared, just—uh, just surprised, that’s all,”
“Uh-huh, sure. Tell me again why you can’t just go to this friend’s house?”
“Well, she’s—she’s, like, y’know—” you shrug as a form of explanation, deflating a little at his unimpressed stare as he blows smoke out his nose. “She’s going home with some guy,” you mumble. “A-And I was supposed to too, but…”
Dabi tsks, shaking his head in false sympathy. “Sweetheart, you’re a teenage movie cliché,”
“Shut up,”
“You tell me to shut up one more time and I’m gonna have to do something about it,” he singsongs, a thinly veiled threat coated in sugar. Swallowing thickly, you glance up at him, blinking twice. His eyes tell you that he’s not fucking around, despite the relaxed features of his face, smile easygoing and gaze lidded.
“S-Sorry,” you murmur, looking away.
“Don’t you know? Good little girls don’t speak like that to Daddy,”
He spits the word out, almost patronizing in his tone, but that fails to stop the way your stomach flutters when it falls from his lips, fails to prevent the choked little gasp that escapes yours. He laughs loudly, your cheeks burning with shame.
Sapphire eyes glint in the pale moonlight, as if he’s just discovered the most valuable treasure, as if he’s just been given the key to the universe—a predator who’s just ensnared it’s prey, and the smirk that slowly etches itself across his face is nothing short of sinister.
“Do you wanna come home with Daddy, princess?”
He’s caging you between his body and the murky convenience store window as he asks, both palms pressed flat against the grimy glass.
“Hmm?”
No. You shouldn’t. You know you shouldn’t, can almost hear your brother’s voice in the back of your mind telling you not to, but you’re too enticed in sapphire to care, drawn into pretty, almost glittering blue fire, letting the flames lick your skin as you immerse yourself in it, deeper and deeper and deeper, allowing it to wrap itself around you, to consume you, to knock the very breath out of you as you gaze into it.
“Okay,”
✰ ✰ ✰
He only has one bed and no couch, he informs you as he leads you up four flights of stairs, explaining that the elevator’s been broken for a few months now, panting out the words just a little.
A soft giggle slips from your lips, amplified by the empty stairwell and echoing off the concrete walls, and Dabi looks back at you, amused.
“Something funny, princess?”
And although there’s a friendly grin on his face and mirth in his eyes, something in his voice makes you tremble, shoots scorching sparks up your spine and sends them rushing through your veins, and your laughter immediately cuts off.
“No,” you say simply, shaking your head and hoping that he didn’t catch the full body shiver that coursed through your figure just a second ago, all thanks to his voice. “Just laughing at the absurdity of it, s’all,”
“Ah,” he says sagely, nodding once. “Well, here we are,”
A tattooed hand gestures vaguely to a white door with a large, black 4 painted on it, the paint beginning to chip away, worn down and faded in some spots.
Dabi’s apartment is small, but you like it. He’s surprised, he tells you, expected someone like you—someone brought up with luxury, someone who’s never had to ask for or want anything in their life, because they always already had it—would hate it.
“Or maybe, that’s exactly why you like it,”
It’s a little snarky, the way those words flow out of his mouth, biting your cheek as they pass, and you wince a little.
“I think it’s homey,” you say quietly, tiny voice raw and honest, deciding to omit the fact that you’ve never really had a space that felt homey yourself. “It’s very you. I really do like it.”
His eyes soften at your gentle confession, features relaxing a little as calloused fingers tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Then, I’m glad,”
For a moment, you’re positive he’s going to kiss you, staring down at you so intently with that look in his eyes as they slowly sweep across your face. But he turns on his heel a moment later, stalking into the tiny bachelor and beckoning for you to follow with a wave of his hand, flicking on a lamp as he passes.
“You hungry?” he’s asking as he walks. “I know this kickass noodle place that delivers 24/7,” he collapses on his bed, outfitted in black sheets, looking up at you expectantly when you stop hesitantly a few feet away. “You should probably eat something,” he continues, pushing himself up on his elbows, legs dangling off the end of the mattress. “Especially if there’s still alcohol in your—”
“Oh no, I don’t drink,” you cut him off without thinking, the words etched into your permanent vocabulary, sitting down next to him, just a hint too close.
“No, no, of course you don’t,” he says with a laugh and a shake of his head, sitting up fully. “Let me guess; niisan doesn’t allow it,”
A frown forms on your lips, brows knitting together. “Well I—”
“Ah! Stop,” he cuts you off with a disinterested wave and a roll of his eyes. “I’ve heard enough,”
Normally, you’d scoff at someone speaking to you so rudely. But with Dabi, with Dabi, it’s different. A little giggle escapes your lips without your permission, the bubbly noise surprising you, and Dabi chuckles in response, a genuine grin spreading across his face, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.
“So. Food?”
The takeout arrives at 1:56am, Dabi bringing the bag full of noodles and other appetizers—too much food for only two people, if you’re being honest—back to his bed, placing it in front of you and then crawling onto the mattress, sitting cross-legged.
The action surprises you—he doesn’t have a table, but you had been expecting him to bring the food to the small breakfast bar, complete with two mismatched stools, not his bed.
Old Hammer Horror films flicker on the TV as the two of you pick through the food together, Styrofoam containers littering the bedspread. And it’s…fun—it’s the most fun you’ve had in a long time, a strange, unfamiliar giddiness fizzing in your tummy every time you make him laugh, every time his eye catches yours, every time he shoves your knee and calls you dollface, despite the deep, honey-coated voice echoing in your head telling you that you shouldn’t be doing this and he’s dangerous.
✰ ✰ ✰
“Bedtime,” Dabi says simply as he returns from the little kitchenette after storing the leftover takeout in the fridge, using a hand to tug at the back of his shirt and pulling it over his head.
“Wha—”
The material hits you square in the face and an involuntary, entirely unsolicited giggle bubbles past your lips, pulling the garment from your head.
“Pajamas,” he nods at the fabric now bunched in your hands, but you can’t seem to find your voice to respond.
Teeth bite into your tongue hard enough to make you wince in an effort to keep a gasp within your chest when he comes into view. He’s lean—toner than you expected, muscles gliding smoothly under his skin as he moves—and you’re unsurprised to find his chest and back decorated with vibrant, intricate tattoos.
Of course, you knew Dabi had tattoos—they’re on his face, his neck, his collarbone, disappearing under the neckline of his shirt and resurfacing under his short sleeves, curling around his arms, brilliant flowing ink telling stories across his skin. They’re beautiful—they’re mesmerizing, inquisitive eyes slowly roaming the expanse of his chest.
But you had never noticed the soft, slightly puckered skin they hid. Scars, your mind provides dimly.
“Do you want to touch them?”
The rumble of his deep voice snaps you out of your revere, heat flooding your cheeks when you realize you were staring. There’s a playful lilt to his voice, and you can’t quite tell if his offer is serious or not, your eyes floating up to his.
“Here,” he chuckles a little as he sits down, offering you his forearm, flipping it over and resting it on the bed.
He lets you trace every single one. He won’t tell you where or how he got the scars, and you don’t push, even as curiosity erodes your chest. It’s impolite to pry, Keigo’s voice echoes through your mind, and you nod once to yourself.
You don’t have sex that night. He doesn’t force you. You nearly tell him that you’re surprised, what, a man of his stature, of his reputation, has a pretty girl in his bed and he doesn’t fuck her?, petty retaliation for what he had said to you when you entered the apartment hours ago, but you chicken out at the last minute. You’d soon come to find that some things are better left unsaid.
✰ ✰ ✰
Spring has just arrived, bringing with it cool, gentle breezes and swaying blades of grass decorated with glistening dewdrops that sparkle when the sun catches them in just the right way. The smell of freshly battered cinnamon sugar donuts and cheap coffee wafts in through the open window, drifting over your bodies and embracing you.
It rouses you, and your eyes flutter open to be met with Dabi’s face. And, God, he’s so damn pretty, with thick dark eyelashes fanned out delicately across inked skin and tousled onyx hair, breathing deep and calm, sharp jaw on display. Reaching out, you daintily trace over his relaxed features—circling defined cheekbones, sliding down the slope of his nose, trailing along his jaw—allowing yourself a moment to admire him before thick guilt begins to strangle you.
You should go. Keigo still thinks that you’re at a friend’s house, and doesn’t expect you to be home until late afternoon, but that belated bitter guilt finally brands the back of your tongue, face souring a little at the idea of deceiving your big brother. And after all he’s done for you, niisan tsks in your head, voice sweet and syrupy, and you can almost see the disappointment in his eyes as he shakes his head. We’re all each other has, you know. And you do, really, you do know, head nodding routinely, instinctual at this point, as you begin to push yourself up.
“Stay,” Dabi says softly, eyes still closed as a hand catches your wrist. You stop immediately, allowing him to pull you back down to the mattress as lids lift to reveal the most brilliant sapphires. Fingers trace down the curve of your neck and you hum, arching into his touch.
“Keigo—”
“Doesn’t have to know,” he cuts you off, his voice still quiet, rough around the edges and heavy with sleep. “C’mon. We’ll go get pie for breakfast, and I’ll have you home to niisan by dinner, promise,”
Giggling a little, you roll into him, allowing him to wrap his arms around you and pull you atop his chest as he flops onto his back.
“Pie,” you laugh, resting your chin on his toned muscles and gazing up at him. “For breakfast?”
“Why not?” He asks, and that smile is back again, the boyish one that looks like he’s hiding something, a little amusing secret just for him, the one that induces a whole flock of butterflies in your chest. “It’s Saturday,” he shrugs as best he can, then squeezes you to his chest. “You don’t got anything to do, I don’t got anything to do...”
Crystal eyes glitter in the morning sun as they gaze at you, golden rays creeping through the small gaps in his thick purple curtains, swaying gently in the wind.
Molars sink into the inside flesh of your cheek as you think, and Dabi tuts his tongue softly, a hand coming to gently pull the skin from between your teeth.
“Okay,”
His lips curl into a smirk, something sharp flashing in his cobalt eyes. “Okay,”
That’s how it begins—with deceptively bright, youthful smiles and cherry pie for breakfast— and five days later, in the backseat of his Cadillac Eldorado while James Cagney flickers on a worn out, off-white screen and two of his fingers are three knuckles deep in you, he asks you to be his, digits curling in your pretty little pussy as he breathes the words against the shell of your ear.
You’re whimpering out yes as you cum, nodding almost frantically against his shoulder as your hips roll towards his palm.
That’s it, that’s his good girl.
✰ ✰ ✰
But it progresses faster than you ever thought it would—faster than you ever thought possible—like a shot of morphine straight to your bloodstream, pupils gaping as DabiDabiDabi surges through your veins, becoming all you can think about—all you want to think about, all you want to do, eat, feel, breathe.
Midnight double-features of old Hollywood films at the local rundown drive-in become one of the many staples of your relationship, finding comfort in the sharp smell of buttersalt popcorn stinging your nose, in the way the film’s sound cracks and pops as it travels through the car radio, staticky like an old record, in the way Dabi forces a cherry Jolly Rancher from his mouth into yours, the hard candy clacking against your teeth.
This is how you spend most of your weeknights for the next month or so—passing candy through kisses in the backseat of the Eldorado, tongues shoved down each other’s throats, stained red and purple and blue from the cheap artificial dye, hands wandering up dresses and little fingers tugging at beltloops and buckles.
On Saturday mornings—sometimes Sundays, too, if you’ve been a really good girl—you find yourself in a familiar red booth at The League—a little diner tucked away on one of the city side streets not too far from Dabi’s apartment—cheap speckled plastic glittering in the sunlight and sticking to your thighs as your favourite waitress, a young woman by the name of Himiko who insists that you call her Mimi, takes your order. She seems to know your Daddy—your Dabi—somehow, but you don’t press, because it’s impolite to pry, you know and niisan raised you better than this.
He always lets you pick what you want for breakfast, but Daddy always orders it for you, always reminds you the mornings you decide on pancakes that if you get those, you aren’t allowed any sundaes or a slice of pie, because too much sugar is bad for his babygirl, and he knows how much syrup you drown those things in, dollface.
But there’s one staple of your relationship that you love more than all the others.
Joyrides.
That’s what he calls them, those drives through the bad parts of the city, the parts with cracked concrete sidewalks and shattered glass and needles littered in the dying grass.
Dabi takes you along frequently, tells you that you have an important job to do, that you play a crucial role in this whole operation, because the police—including your father—have been cracking down especially hard on dealing in this area. But nobody bothers to question a seemingly innocent young woman delivering inconspicuous brown paper bags—bags full of pretty little pills and tiny baggies of white powder—to shop owners and crumbling apartment complexes, eerily reminiscent of a Girl Scout selling cream filled cookies and thin-mints.
Keigo would kill you, if he knew.
It’s an instantaneous rush, though, being allowed to participate in Dabi’s business ventures, being allowed to help. It’s a privilege, you think, makes you feel like he trusts you, and you absolutely live for the praise, for that gorgeous smile he gives you after you deliver the sweets to the client, for the passionate kisses he rewards you with for being such a good little helper.
Joyrides are the best. Because it’s just you and him, the Eldorado’s radio struggling to play whatever station it’s picking up on—usually some sort of sixties rock—as you cruise the streets in his absurdly large car, the sky smeared with strokes of faded pinks and oranges, peppered with wispy clouds that look like loose strands of white cotton candy.
And sometimes, after his work is all finished, he’ll drive you to one of those cliffs you’ve come to know so well and let you ride him in the drivers seat—precious little whines and pathetic broken whimpers spilling from your lips as you rest your head against his shoulder, gyrating your hips in fast, shallow little circles, using his cock like it’s a toy, just like he told you to—before taking you back home to fuck you properly, to fuck you right.
✰ ✰ ✰
It’s quaint, the little house you and your niisan live in, with its perfectly trimmed hedges and well-manicured grass, a stone walkway leading up to the front door, which is painted white. White windowsills, white brick, white, white, white, the whole thing is white—bright, pure, untarnished.
It’s just enough space for the two of you, your adoptive father, an absurdly large man by the name of Toshinori Yagi, had stated proudly, the first day he showed it to you.
And it’s only a short walk from the university, his wife chimed in with a smile too wide for her face, nodding excessively.
It’s convenient, they had said, the day you received your acceptance letter and scholarship offer from the university your brother attended. It’ll be good for you to stay with your older brother for a little, before going off into the world on your own, they had promised.
You hadn’t really wanted to go to this university—would’ve much preferred to go away to school in another country—but you didn’t. Keigo knew it, too, knew your desire to leave, to see more of the world, to experience it on your own without that hulking shadow with the wild hair. But he coaxed you into it, convinced you to stay, just like he always does, begging you softly not to leave your poor niisan all alone as gentle fingers pushed locks of hair from your face, trailing down your cheek and coming to cup your jaw, reminding you that you’re all each other has.
And you had nodded, nuzzled your face against his palm, sought comfort and relief in the presence of your big brother, just as you always do. He was right; you had your entire life to travel the world, what’s the rush? Why leave now? Stay with him, just for a little longer.
But your niisan, your niisan has a secret.
It wasn’t like you didn’t know. Keigo has always had a penchant for living fast, after all, seems to somehow incorporate conceptual and literal speed into all aspects of his life—his marks in school, his record-breaking track races, and now, his personal life, too.
It started in high school. He was in twelfth grade. You still don’t know who gave him his first taste, still don’t know why he decided to shoot up that night, but he did.
And it made him feel invincible. It made him feel like he could fly.
He hid it well, didn’t look like a heroin addict—at least, not what the words ‘heroin addict’ usually conjure up. His topaz eyes were bright as ever, even if his pupils were just a pinprick; nails cut so short it looked painful, to keep from scratching and scabbing his body; was always sure to keep his track marks well hidden, methodical in choosing his injection sites, and kept up with regular hygiene, even if his wild, windswept hair did get a little messier.
Yes, he hid it well.
But he couldn’t hide it from you for long, didn’t hide it from you well enough, becoming increasingly careless the deeper he spiralled into the addiction.
And it takes a while for you to truly acknowledge it. You didn’t want to—not at first, anyway—didn’t want to believe that your all-star, top-of-his-class, golden-child of a big brother was a junkie.
So you ignored it. You ignored the way he began recklessly disposing of the needles in the small trash can under his desk instead of hiding them in the kitchen trash whenever your mother asked him to take it out, ignored the burnt spoon you found in the sink and the bloody Q-tips you found littering the counter of the bathroom the two of you shared, ignored the way those tiny orange syringe caps had begun appearing in odd places, seeming to pop up more and more frequently.
Yes, you ignored it, until he stole one of the shoelaces off of your sneakers. And you still can’t explain it, exactly, can’t explain why that was the final straw, why that had you gripping a laceless shoe in a trembling hand as you stormed into the washroom uninvited and unannounced, catching him with the string between his teeth, just as the last of that disgusting orangish-brown liquid sunk into his veins.
The words disintegrate on your tongue, escaping in a pitiful little squeak, all of the fury you felt towards him for his behaviour melting the instant your eyes catch the end of the injection, wide and unblinking as they stare at the needle stuck in his forearm.
For a moment, neither of you are able to speak, Keigo’s mouth opening and closing a few times as his eyes flood with tears, the prettiest topaz shining in the warm washroom light as they frenetically search your face.
“Sit,” you tell him, finally breaking the silence, your voice not your own. His eyebrows knit together, and he shakes his head a little in misunderstanding, but you persist. “Sit,”
Shoulders deflating, he holds your gaze for a moment longer before nodding once and obeying, sitting on the closed toilet.
“We have to—” you stop as your chin begins to wobble, swallowing thickly against the sob crawling up your throat, quivering hands rooting haphazardly through a first-aid kit. “W-We have to clean those, so they don’t get infected,”
Glassy golden eyes watch you intently, his chest hiccupping just a little as he wordlessly holds his arms out to you, armed with a cotton ball soaked in rubbing alcohol, the scent stinging your nose.
There aren’t many—only a few little pinpricks on each arm, some decorated with dark blooms of periwinkle and violet, but they still cause your tongue to crumble to bitter, suffocating ash in your mouth.
Tiny fingers encircle his wrist, your touch always so soft, so gentle, as if you’re afraid to break him, and he chokes on a noise that sounds suspiciously similar to a sob.
“You don’t—You shouldn’t have to—” and he can’t even force the words out, breathing out forcefully through his nose as his tears finally overflow, glistening drops streaming down his cheeks, bleary eyes unblinking, focused on your little fingers as they continue their tender ministrations with so much care, with so much love it’s nearly stifling, and he can’t breathe, because he doesn’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve it—
“I want to,” a knuckle catches one of his fresh tears, swiping it across his cheekbone and leaving a glimmering trail in its wake. “Alright? I want to,”
And this—this becomes a habit.
✰ ✰ ✰
You don’t tell Keigo about your relationship. Not at first, at least, conjuring up flimsy excuses that become more ridiculous as the days pass, as your disappearances steadily increase. Dabi doesn’t want to, makes up some bullshit excuse about how he isn’t ready yet. But you buy it anyway, and you wait.
Until the morning of one of your niisan’s big races, the ones where multiple trainers and coaches come from all over the country to assess his performance, when Dabi shows up entirely unannounced and uninvited, makes sure he’s in Keigo’s line of sight as he bounces around at the starting line, and kisses the life out of you, right in front of him.
That’s the only time he attends one of Keigo’s races.
The rest you continue attending by yourself. Dabi doesn’t like it, doesn’t like to have you out of his sight at all lately, but he knows it’s moot to argue with you. You’re going, you told him firmly, the night before Keigo’s next race, whether he likes it or not.
But, boy, was your niisan fuming by the time the two of you arrived home that day.
He hadn’t cared that he had, essentially, lost the race, hadn’t cared that he didn’t even manage to place in the top three for the first time in literal years, hadn’t cared that he just blew several chances with potential coaches and sponsors.
None of it mattered.
With a rough hand wrapped around your bicep, he all but yanks you out of the car, doesn’t care that you’re stumbling over your own feet as he drags you towards the front door, doesn’t care that he shoves you inside the house so hard you do trip, crying out as your hands and knees collide with the cold tiled floor.
And he’s yelling, yelling at the top of his lungs, the moment that white door slams shut, shut so hard the walls tremble.
“Fucking Touya Todoroki!? Are you fucking kidding me?”
You can barely see him through your tears as you quickly flip yourself over, beginning to inch away on your hands and feet as you stare up at him, breath hitching in your chest.
“Wh-Who?”
“Dabi, for Christ sake!”
“T-T—” Touya?
“Oh Jesus, don’t tell me—He didn’t tell you his fucking name?”
No, you shake your head quickly, chest stuttering as the name echoes through your mind, your big brother nothing but a blur of crimson and gold advancing towards you, mumbling to himself about how no, of course he didn’t, why would he? Of course not, as he drags nimble fingers through his messy hair.
“To-Todo—”
“Todoroki,” he spits, so harsh it makes you flinch.
“Your coa—”
“Yeah, I know his father,” Keigo rolls his eyes as he crouches down, catches your trembling chin between his thumb and forefinger, and you cease all action immediately, freezing in his grip. “You know his brother,”
Your brow furrows as you belatedly search your memory for any instance of the name, gunmetal grey and snow white flashing through your mind, but everything’s too foggy, too hazy with the fear of disappointing your niisan more, eyes squeezing shut as you hiccup at the mere thought.
But then he’s sighing, always knows when he’s gone a little too far—you are very delicate, after all, so small and naïve and in desperate need of someone to take care of you, aren’t you?—collapsing back on his heels and pulling you into his lap as soft hands smooth down your hair, murmuring it’s alright, it’s alright and niisan’s got you, niisan’s got you.
“What’re you doin’ with a man like that, my little songbird?” his voice is gentle as he rocks your bodies back and forth, after your sobs have calmed a bit.
What are you? you want to ask, front teeth sinking into your tongue hard enough to make you wince, keeping those three tiny words inside of your mouth.
“I like him,” you mumble instead, nuzzling your face into his chest and hiding from those bright, inquisitive topaz eyes.
“You—You like him,” he snorts to himself in disbelief, shaking his head a little.
“I do,” you respond, a little firmer as you pull back to stare at your big brother’s face, eyebrows knit together in determination, sparks of fury igniting deep in your chest at the thought of Keigo thinking he knows better, when he’s just as bad.
“He isn’t good for you—”
“He isn’t good for you,” you shoot back, tone clipped as you level your gaze, squirming a little in his arms. His grasp tightens, like he’s terrified you’re going to leave, honey eyes holding yours for a beat before he lets out a breath, looking away, defeated.
“That doesn’t mean you should be allowed to see him,” he mutters, glancing at your tear-stained face for a moment before his eyes flit away again. “But…” his chest rises with a deep inhale, pressing against you. “I guess…I guess it isn’t very fair of me to, uh, judge you, is it?”
“No,” you pout a little. “It isn’t,”
He huffs out a soft chuckle, gazing at you from the side of his eye, a tiny smirk spreading across his face. “Stop being so cute,” he grumbles, squeezing you against him just a bit too hard, giggles spilling from your lips as your fingers curl in the cotton of his hoodie. “I’m trying to be mad at you, y’know,”
“Kei-nii,” you whine with a roll of your eyes, shoving his shoulder weakly, though there’s a smile on your lips.
“Alright, alright, alright,” he’s saying as lithe fingers brush some hair back from your face, palm resting against your cheek, thumb stroking your jaw rhythmically. “Just—Promise me, if he ever hurts you…You’ll tell me immediately, yeah?”
Blinking a few times, your eyes search his face, sobering up as gold bores into you. There’s something in his stare, something you’ve never seen before, something that you can’t decipher, and it sends chills pebbling across your skin. Swallowing thickly, you nod, little jerky movements as your eyes hold his. “Y-Yeah, promise, niisan,”
“Good,” he whispers, chin resting atop the crown of your head as he cradles you to his chest. “We’re all we have. Never forget it.”
✰ ✰ ✰
You only question Dabi about his name once, lounging around on his bed in the early hours of the morning, tangled in his sheets, wearing his t-shirt, with his large hand resting on your bare thigh. His head’s tipped back against the headboard as he exhales smoke in pretty little curls that disintegrate into hazy nothingness only a moment later.
“T-Touya?” Your hearts thudding against your ribcage as you almost whisper the name, barely audible at all, but his head snaps forward, sapphire eyes finding yours immediately.
And for a moment you’re terrified you’ve made a grave mistake, that you’ve crossed some invisible line you hadn’t had a clue about, his glare scathing your skin; but then his features relax, and a little smirk spreads across his lips.
“Ah, so he finally told you,” his voice is quiet, and you can’t read his tone, eyes squinting a little as you lean towards him. “I don’t go by that name anymore,” he speaks up, voice ringing out clear and strong. “Don’t call me that again,”
The or else is implied, and you nod meekly, promising him softly that you’ll never utter it again.
✰ ✰ ✰
It’s been gnawing at you all week, sitting heavy like a block of lead in your stomach, the cuticles on your left thumb bitten raw in agitation. You need to tell him. You’re going to tell him, it’s just…
It just never seemed like the right time to tell him—then again, is there ever a right time to tell your older brother that you’re spending the entire weekend at his drug dealer’s place?
But now it’s Friday, and Dabi will be here in a few minutes, and you still have yet to let Keigo know.
Because Keigo is currently otherwise occupied. With a girl.
You hadn’t been expecting to hear the tinny laughter of a woman when you entered the house, arriving home after your last class of the day, hadn’t been expecting to walk into the living room to find said girl splayed across your niisan’s lap, staring up at him dreamily as endless giggles spilled from her painted lips, hadn’t been expecting him to be so completely enamoured with her that he doesn’t even greet you.
It burns up all of the anxiety that had been building inside you in an instant, turns it into boiling rage that bubbles and pops, noxious as it rises up your throat.
And so, you decide that you won’t say anything at all. If he’s too busy to even acknowledge you like he normally does every single day, then surely he doesn’t care if you leave, right?
“I’m going out,” you toss airily over your shoulder as your halfway out the front door, a small grin spreading across you lips as you spot Dabi leaning lazily against his car. He gives you a nod of acknowledgement, smug grin of his own forming on his lips.
Keigo shoots up immediately, nearly knocking the girl to the floor, moving faster than he ever has in his life as he catches your wrist and tugs, hard. A loud yelp sounds from the back of your throat and you stumble backwards, right into your big brother’s chest.
“Where? Huh? Where?” he growls out the word through clenched teeth, squeezing again. “With who? That—That fucking scumbag?”
At the sound of your yelp, Dabi straightens up instantly, usual lidded eyes now wide open and alert, zeroing in on where Keigo has ensnared you.
“Not like it matters to you, not when you have a whore to entertain,” you spit, and though your gaze is blazing, your eyes are filling with tears, gleaming in the late afternoon sun. “Right?” you push, after a few moments of silence.
His grip loosens, although he doesn’t let go completely, fingers still clasped around you.
“Princess, I…”
“No,” you snap, viciously pulling yourself free of him. “Don’t princess me. Not after ignoring me like that,”
“You’re overreacting—”
“Then so are you,” you cut him off sharply, already beginning to back away and blinking hard to clear your eyes of stubborn tears. “I’m spending the weekend at Dabi’s. I’ll see you on Sunday,”
Dabi catches you the moment you’re within reach, drawing you close to his chest for a second before pulling back. Calloused hands gently raise your wrist, sapphire eyes assessing the damage. His thumb caresses the rapidly bruising area rhythmically, back and forth, back and forth, and he frowns deeply, his gaze finally meeting yours.
“Does he do this often? Hurt you like this?”
And it’s startling, shocking, to see the overflowing concern in his crystal eyes, studying your face intently as you try to find your voice. You don’t think he’s ever sounded that serious before.
“I—No, of course not,” you shake your head, tongue tripping over the words. “We—Y’know, siblings fight, and stuff, it’s—he doesn’t know his own strength, sometimes, uh, forgets it, a-and I bruise easily,” you shrug, wincing a little at the serious expression still etched deep into Dabi’s face.
“If he ever puts his hands on you again, I’ll fucking kill him,” Dabi says slowly, softly, as if he’s reciting the morning news to you, dark eyes drifting up to refocus on the figure still standing in the doorway. “Do you understand me?” he asks, though his stare does not leave Keigo’s, voice still calm, almost serene. “I’ll fucking kill him,”
He won’t, you reassure him, countless times over the next few weeks. Niisan’s never intentionally hurt me, Daddy, he won’t, I promise.
And they’re all true, those words you repeat to him, over and over and over again, while you comb fingers through his inky hair or press chaste kisses against his scarred skin. They’re all true.
Until they aren’t.
You should’ve known, really, not to talk about it. He doesn’t—not when you’re cleaning his track marks or wiping sweat from his forehead, not when he lays his head in your lap as he’s coming down, eyes fluttering as your fingers thread through his hair, not even when you’re feeding him teaspoons of water to keep him hydrated as his body forces him to throw up nothing, again, lips dry and cracked, skin clammy and cold—and you shouldn’t, either.
“Have you ever thought about switching to pills?” You ask one night, casually, as if this is mundane, normal, to discuss while washing dishes. “I heard oxy is like, heroin in a pill,”
His jaw clenches, you can see the motion out of the corner of your eye, quickly refocusing your gaze on the bowl in your hands, the same bowl you’ve been washing for about five minutes now.
“No.”
“Why not? They’re more controlled—”
“I said no,”
“And I asked why not,” you spit, dropping the bowl from your hands. It cracks as it collides with the aluminum of the sink, the sound piercing through the tense air as you turn to glare at your brother, soapy hands on your hips. “It would be safer—”
“Marginally—”
“That’s still better than nothing, Keigo! Christ,” you sigh, running a sudsy hand through your hair. “They’re all fucking opioids, what’s the difference!? They’re all gonna get you high the same way, aren’t they?”
“No—for fuck’s sake—”
You wouldn’t understand, even if he tried to explain to you. You wouldn’t understand that he’s already attempted this, attempted to switch from heroin to pills, and that it wasn’t the same—isn’t the same. You wouldn’t understand that oxy doesn’t give the same instantaneous rush as heroin does, doesn’t take his breath away like heroin does, doesn’t warm his entire fucking body the way heroin does.
No, you wouldn’t understand how most of the time he feels like he can’t fucking breathe until he shoots up, wouldn’t understand how, at this point, heroin feels like an old friend, safe and cozy and more comforting than anything he’s ever felt before, than even your arms are, wouldn’t understand how heroin makes him feel like he’s fucking invincible, like he can take on the entire world in one day, like he can continue living.
It makes him feel whole again, full again, put back together with no cracks or missing pieces. It distracts him from how irrevocably shattered his insides truly are, providing him with quick, fleeting relief, just long enough for him to keep going, keep striving, keep breathing. But you wouldn’t understand any of that. How could you?
He’s sighing as he walks away from you, raking both hands through golden hair.
“You don’t understand—”
“No, you don’t see what this shit is doing to you! It’s killing you, niisan!”
God, no, not the honorific. Not when you’re gazing at him with tears spilling from your eyes, little hands desperately pawing at his t-shirt, urgent just to make him understand, to get through to him for one instant.
“I-It’s killing you and all I can do is watch,” your voice fades into a whisper, breaking on the last word as more tears streak your cheeks, leaving small gleaming trails in their wake, fingers readjusting, knotting in his shirt and tugging, latching onto him as he keeps walking, jaw clenching again as he tries to ignore you. “Y-You have to stop—no, no, n-not stop, just—just slow down, yeah? Slow down a little, it’s—it’s too fast, niisan, you’re going too fast—”
But it’s building, and building, and his head is throbbing, and throbbing, and your voice is rising higher and higher, louder and louder, and it’s all just too much, and before he even knows what’s happening, his hand is cutting through the air, knuckles colliding with your cheek so hard it sends you stumbling backwards, tripping over your own feet as you fall on your ass.
He regrets it the moment it happens, the very moment his skin makes contact with yours.
But that doesn’t matter; the damage is already done.
He’s never hit you before. Sure, he may be a little rough sometimes, and his grip may leave a few bruises every once in a while, but he has never deliberately hit you, until today.
He never thought he would.
Golden eyes dart from his hand, still raised in the air from where it struck you, blood gleaming on his silver rings, to your face, small and terrified, crimson flowing down your cheek, mixing with your tears as it slowly drips off your jaw, and then back to his hand.
And for a moment, he swears, the whole world stops.
Then, a mere second later, his whole world shatters.
You’re trying to form words, staring up at him with impossibly wide, unblinking eyes, but they’re just escaping your lips in little mumbles, half-formed and coated in spit.
His mouth opens, then closes, then opens again, nothing more than a pitiful huff of air formed in the shape of a curse leaving his lips.
It takes your mind a moment to register what’s happened, numb with dizzying shock, stupid with the most heartbreaking pain, dazed as tiny, trembling fingers raise to tenderly prod at the wound, wincing the moment they make contact. But the throbbing of your cheek brings you back quicker than Keigo would’ve liked, and then your eyebrows are knitting together, mouth settling in a wobbly line, blinking hard to clear your eyes of pesky tears.
And all he can do is watch, watch as you shakily push yourself to your feet, watch as your hand grips your phone like it’s a fucking lifeline—a lifeline he very briefly thinks about diving forward and snatching out of your grasp—watch as you turn on the balls of your feet and disappear down the hall, the slam of your bedroom door echoing a moment later.
You barely make it into your bedroom before your collapsing on the floor, wheezing out uneven breaths, sharp, hard huffs of air that slice through your tight chest with each exhale, vision blurry with stinging tears as you stare down at your phone, cradled in quivering hands.
You know that if you make this phone call, Dabi will never let you come back. You know that if you make this phone call, this is it. Trembling fingers hesitate over his name, those four glowing letters staring back at you, an unnecessary amount of various heart emojis cushioning them.
He doesn’t pick up the first time. Maybe it’s a sign, you think to yourself, a sign that you shouldn’t leave just yet, that you should stay and rot away with him for a little bit longer, remain with him for a little more and give him another piece of your soul that he can add to his prized collection as he slowly steals your life force from you.
But then searing pain radiates through your entire face, along your jaw and to the back of your head, and the coppery smell of blood stings your nose, and you press on Dabi’s name again.
✰ ✰ ✰
If he’s being honest, he would’ve never picked up for anyone but you, probably would’ve killed the idiot that thought to interrupt him during one of the biggest deals of his career—of his life.
“What?” he snarls as he answers, pacing along the wall outside the warehouse like a rabid dog, anxious and eager. “This better be important, sweetheart. You knew I was meeting with one of the bosses today—”
“He hit me,”
It’s hard to understand you when you’re still sobbing, words all wet and garbled, and Dabi squints as he focuses his concentration, feet skidding to a stop as his heart begins to pound.
“What?”
“He hit me. Nii—Keigo hit me,”
And then, his blood runs cold. His ears are ringing, vision fading in and out of focus as red tinges the edges, breathing beginning to accelerate, exhaled harshly through flared nostrils. The thin skin stretched taut across his bony knuckles has turned white as he grips his phone so tightly he’s surprised it doesn’t shatter in his hand.
“Pack your shit,” he tells you, voice oddly calm, cold and sterile and sending shivers skittering up your spine. “I’m gonna fucking kill him,”
#dabi x reader#dabi smut#dabi#takami keigo#bnha smut#mha smut#aaaaaah fucking MONSTER#anywayyy cant wait to hear what u all think!!!#dabi don't get mad at me i lost track of time editing n i've been real good going to bed on time#tw noncon#tw dubcon#tw daddy kink#tw drugs#tw:abuse
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A Tale Untold. ( Jungkook x Oc)
Historical Au! General Jungkook! x Princess Oc!
Warnings : Non con/ Dub con, Manipulation, violence.
Rated 18+
Summary : The King of Elvyra is proud of his empire and of his perfect family. But the truth behind his ascension, is a tale that remains untold.
“The palace is so beautifully maintained your Majesty. Truly, such opulent splendor …..” The envoy from the neighboring Kingdom stood slack jawed in the Grand Hall, staring around at the gleaming trophies, mounted shields and gold embossed portraits that decorated the walls.
The brocade curtains had been left open, tied together with silk braided ropes with jeweled hangings, the light from the late afternoon sun setting the whole place aglow. On ornate tables scattered across the large room, stood little treasures and trinkets that had been taken as bounty from successful military campaigns against smaller, weaker Kingdoms.
All of it a testament to the unchallenged power wielded by General Jeon Jungkook, the King of Elvyra. He was not like the other monarchs. He still commanded his army personally despite wearing the title of King.
Jeon Jungkook, who stood to my left, with his arm wrapped around my waist in a possessive grip that was just shy of painful.
“ You must thank my beautiful queen for that, I’m afraid, Sir Cha. She has been much occupied with setting the Hall and the Palace to rights after my ascension, and her efforts have paid off. Have they not, princess?” Jungkook whispered, turning around to brush soft lips against my ear and I felt physically sick.
The last endearment was a sneer. And insult. A reminder of what I was : a captive.
“Yes, my King.” I said softly, keeping my tone level. I wouldn’t dare act up in front of guests, because Jungkook’s punishments would be cruel and merciless. He would keep my sister away from me, or worse, he would forbid me from spending time with our oldest son.
Jihwan was only seven, but already he was being trained as the heir, spending hours on the training fields with his father and it took endless hours of begging and servicing Jungkook in his bed and out of it, for me to be allowed a scant few hours with the boy.
Jungkook drilled into his head the importance of power, the need to instill fear in his subordinates, raising him to be just as ruthless and cruel as he himself was and I had only those few stolen hours to speak to my son about the values that I had grown up with. My heart ached when I remembered the kind of monarch my own father had been : a kind, gentle man who loved his Kingdom. And my elder brother had been raised with morals , compassion and justice in his veins, only for Jeon Jungkook and his barbaric army to invade our home and destroy it all.
“Your beauty outshines all of this, my Queen.” A man simpered next to me and Jungkook’s eyes narrowed at him. I swallowed. Jungkook didn’t like others looking at what was his.
“The story of your ascension to the throne here, we would love to hear of it.” One of the women said and my breath caught in my lungs, Memories flooded my head, traumatizing and painful. My skin went hot and then icy cold and my husband laughed next to me.
“It was quite simple. I was offered the throne and the lovely daughter of the Kingdom, in return for saving them from ruin, was it not, my dear?”
Liar.
“I.. Yes.”
“Ruin? Was your kingdom is trouble, my Queen?” the woman asked.
~~~~~~
No. We were rich and thriving. Everyone was treated equal here. My parents ruled with a heart of gold and everyone was well fed and joyful. We held festivals every month, celebrated life and never deemed ill will to anyone else. We loved each other. The commonfolk dined with the royals in the courtyards and the King himself drank at the cavern down in the village. The oldest prince, my brother, he played with the boys in the village, taught them how to wield the sword and the bow and arrow and my sister and I… we spent our days in the meadows…. Making daisy chains and stealing kisses from the stable boys.
~~~~~
“ They were in desperate need of firm leadership. My father in law, may he rest in peace….he had a weak heart that gave out soon after our alliance. Her brother followed soon after leaving me no choice but to take over.” Jungkook’s voice held a note of genuine sympathy and I felt sick to my stomach.
~~~~~~~~
The sight of my father, kneeling in front of his throne, shackled and in chains. My mother on her knees, begging for mercy and Jungkook’s men held a dagger to her throat. My brother standing in front of me and my sister, arms spread wide as he stared right at General Jeon, refusing to kneel.
“What you’re doing goes against every law on earth, Jeon. The moment you attack a foe when he has his back turned you reveal yourself to be a coward.”
And Jungkook had laughed, loud and uncaring.
“And if I stab him through the heart when he’s right in front of me? What does that reveal?”
It had happened in a flash, the quick movement of his wrist, the flash of silver as he drew his weapon and then the sickening squelch of the blade as it sunk through skin and flesh. The hot wetness of my brother’s blood as it splattered all over my face, the dawning horror as I realized that he had run the sword right through my brother’s heart and the endless screams from my mother and sister as my brother died right in front of our eyes.
I had stood there, too stunned to scream watching the boy who had taught me how to walk bleeding to death in front of me and when I had looked up, Jungkook’s eyes had been trained on mine.
“Bring her here” He had said firmly, pointing right at me and my entire world had exploded in agony. I screamed in protest as his men grabbed me by the arm, yanking me forward with such force that my legs gave out, dragging over the rough stone floors as they pulled me to stand in front of the man who had invaded our home without remorse.
“General Jeon….” My father’s voice came from behind me , soft and yet firm. I could hear the grief and pain in the syllables, and I wondered how much my father must be aching at this moment. He had loved my brother with his whole heart “ We’ve offered to surrender, offered you the throne. Please. Spare my daughters and my wife. There is a summer palace at the edge of the kingdom . We will retire there and live our lives out in exile. Please… don’t hurt them. They are too young to understand what you’re doing.”
One of the men standing next to Jungkook stepped forward and I glanced at him, my eyes widening when I saw his face. He looked like an angel, pristine and flawless. And his gaze was trained on my sister . I felt my heart began to pound as he began making his way over to her.
“No!! No… Aline!!” I screamed and Jungkook’s hand shot out gripping my jaw and forcing my mouth closed.
“Hold your tongue, woman.” He whispered. “ My patience wears thin.” He glanced at my father and the smirk on his face grew bigger. “ I think that would be such a pity, your highness. A face like your daughter’s … it doesn’t belong in exile. It belongs on the throne…. does it not, princess?”
“Your daughters are beautiful , majesty. They deserve to have handsome, brave husbands, do they not?” the man who had gone to my sister called out, his fingers curled around her arm as he dragged her to the front and I felt my heart crack in two as Aline burst into loud, miserable tears.
“Lulu…. Lulu make him stop… tell him to let me go…” She whimpered , punching fruitless against the soldier’s armored chest and the man seemed amused as he stared at her.
“Please…she’s too young…” I begged, staring at Jungkook beseechingly. “ She’s only sixteen summers old… Please don’t hurt her…”
“Sixteen isn’t a child. She is old enough to bear one herself.” The man holding her snapped angrily and I stiffened.
“A fair enough point, Taehyung- ah…” Jungkook laughed “ but we’re not barbarians. Let her go for now.”
“What?” Taehyung growled. “ No. I want her. Jungkook I’ve never taken anything from any of the countless kingdoms we’ve ravaged but I want her.” He shook my sister like she was ragged doll and Aline looked catatonic with terror.
“Please , let her go, she’s shaking…” I begged , trying to yank my arms away from the men holding me and Jungkook growled.
“Shut your mouth or your father dies.” He snarled and I was too stricken, too distracted to register what he had said, too focused on my baby sister to listen.
“please Jungkook, don’t do this… She’s young and she’s scared….”
Jungkook’s snarl of rage made me go white as a sheet and I watched in horror as he pointed straight at my father with the sword that still dripped with my brother’s life blood.
“ Get rid of the old fool.” He roared and my heart ripped straight in two.
“NO!!!!!!!”
My loud cry did nothing to deter the men holding my father who showed not a moment of hesitation, raising their sword.
“Remember who you are, Iseul!!” My father said loudly and I turned my face away, closing my eyes as the sickening sound of the blade coming down rang through the place, my mother’s howl of agony following shortly after. I stared at the floor, going limp in the arms of the men holding me up, my body numb and throbbing in disbelief.
“Now look what you made me do.” Jungkook snapped. “ I was going to let the poor fool live, somewhere in the dungeons with your mother but your complete and utter disregard for my authority….it fills me with rage, Iseul.” He snapped.
I couldn’t breathe, my lungs constricting. They were dead. My father and brother, the only two men who had protected me and my sister all our lives, they were both dead. This man. No, not a man. A monster.
This cruel, heartless monster had butchered them in front of my eyes.
“Look at me.” He said suddenly, stepping in front of me.
I didn’t respond, keeping my gaze trained on the floor and his hand shot out, gripping my chin and forcing me to look up at him.
“Look at me.” He said firmly. “ Come morning we will be wed. I will be your husband. You will belong to me. You will give me strong heirs and all of your wants and needs will be mine to fulfill. Do you understand what that means, Iseul?” He demanded.
I choked on a sob.
“Jungkook we need to get rid of the bodies. Give them a proper funeral at least.” Another man stepped out of the shadows and Jungkook sighed.
“Yes, hyung. Taehyung-ah… Why don’t we take our new brides to our chambers?” He smirked, “ I could do with some stress relief now that the hard part of this whole thing is done.”
“Took you long enough. Come here my pretty doll…” Taehyung grinned, dragging Aline away and I whimpered, stumbling to try and follow but Jungkook’s arm came around my waist squeezing tight.
“That’s her husband now. Think of it that way and it will hurt less. Your sister is married to a man who will love her , protect her and cherish her. He will give her nice strong children. What more do you want for her?”
I exhaled shakily, turning to him.
“ What do you know of love, you monster?” I whispered.
Jungkook hummed.
“Then how about this, my princess. Let me teach you what I know of pleasure, and you can teach me all about love.”
It was a lesson that I never forgot. A painful, humiliating excruciating lesson in his bed where he stripped of my clothes, my dignity and the last shreds of my honour.
I stared at the ceiling as he lay over me, the large expanse of his chest pinning me to the mattress, the slick drag of his member inside me making me ache and throb, his lips, pressing kisses against my throat.
“you smell like a flower garden, my angel. So pure and precious. Made for me, I see….” He whispered, hips pushing up against mine as he ducked into me with long, rough strokes.
I stayed still staring into nothing and he pinched my nipple, twisting the buds till I whimpered.
“Please…”
“please what?” He whispered, resting his forehead against mine, forcing me to stare into doe eyes that seemed to glitter like the clear sky on a spring night. What a beautiful monster.
“Please stop…” I whispered.
“Stop…” He laughed cruelly. He pulled out fully before slamming back in with more force. Pain lanced up my body. “ Now why would I do that?”
“Hurts…” I whispered, exhausted. My hands lay limp and tired next to my head, throbbing from trying to punch him countless times to no avail.
“Poor little love. It hurts because you aren’t used to it. I will do this often and well and soon, your body will know that I belong inside you. And then you will beg me to make it last longer… not stop.”
I closed my eyes, staring into my mind. Remember who you are? I didn’t even know who I was anymore.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Of course, it was a pity that the royal blood came to an end that way. But some things can’t be helped.” Jungkook said firmly, arm still wrapped around me in a vice like grip. I glanced at the sun as it dipped lower in the sky. Was Jihwan done with the training? I wanted to see him. To hold him and remind myself that there was still some goodness in the world.
“But under your rule, the kingdom has thrived, your Majesty. So it was all for the best.” The man said brightly and Jungkook chuckled.
“That is true. Would you like to view the training grounds now?”
“If, I maybe excused?” I asked softly and Jungkook frowned.
“Is something the matter?”
“I feel a little unwell…” I said softly and the look on his face darkened.
But he didn’t protest, merely dipping his head lightly.
“Jihwan is in the west wing. He’s working on his scribing skills. You may visit him for a while and after our guests retire, I will fetch you from him.”
I bowed respectfully.
“Thank you, my King.”
~~~~~~~~
“Mother!!!” Jihwan’s loud cry rang through the hallway as he came barreling into my arms. I caught him too my chest, eyes stinging because soon he would be too old for me to hug and kiss and caress.
“My darling child, I’ve missed you..” I whispered.
“You saw me last night at dinner…” He laughed.
“And that is entirely too long ago.” I brushed the hair of his face. “ did you eat your meals? Have you been keeping yourself safe?”
He nodded eagerly.
“Auntie Aline and Uncle Tae bought me a new dagger.”
I felt my heart drop. A dagger?
“Darling, please be safe…Is it too sharp?”
“A little. But Uncle Tae told me I’m old enough to learn how to use it to fight.”
I closed my eyes, willing my self not to scream in frustration.
“Alright. But now unless your father is there to watch you, alright?” I whispered.
He nodded.
“Yes, mother. Mother…. “ He hesitated. “ Do Auntie Aline and Uncle Tae love each other?”
I blinked.
“What?”
“She looks so sad, sometimes.”
I bit my lips, willing myself to smile. Unlike me , my sister didn’t know how to put on an act. She had always been a delicate child and the trauma of our parents death and Taehyung’s cruelty had taken a toll on her. She was deeply depressed but her husband didn’t care. All Taehyung cared for was her body and the two sturdy sons she had borne him, a third child on the way.
“Of course darling. You do know, Han and Jiwoo are going to have a younger sibling soon? She must be tired from growing the baby inside her.”
“Will I have a sibling too?” He asked innocently and I opened my mouth to refute the idea when a shadow fell over us.
“Would you like one, my brave little tiger?” Jungkook’s voice rang over us and I stiffened.
“No.” I said swiftly, “ He enjoys having all of mama’s attention, don’t you darling?”
Jihwan wrinkled his nose.
“I don’t know. A little sister would feel nice.”
Jungkook hummed.
“I like the idea of that. If you give me a daughter then we can have her betrothed to Han at birth.” He said casually and I felt sick.
“Jihwan, you must go back to your lessons, now. Your mother and I will see you at dinner.” Jungkook said softly and I flinched when Jungkook gripped my shoulders tugging me away from my boy. Everyday Jihwan looked less and less upset at leaving me and I wondered if one day he would begin welcoming my departure.
Jungkook didn’t say a word, turning me around and leading me gently to the opposite wing, where our bedchamber lay. It was a path I traipsed a million times in the seven years we’d been married and yet, it felt just as unbearable as it had back then.
The sight of the King made the maids and footmen scramble away in a panic and I swallowed as he opened the large engraved doors , prompting me to go in. I stepped in only to have him press against my back at once. I stayed still, letting him untie the strings of my train, before moving to undo the button of my gown. He stopped halfway through.
“This is tedious. Strip for me and get on the bed.”
I didn’t move. What did he want? Surely he wouldn’t be thinking of humoring my son? The idea of bearing more children for him was abhorrent to me. I wanted to cry. But I did as he said, carefully stripping out of all my clothes ,m placing them in a neat pile, on the table nearby before moving to climb into the bed for him. Jungkook moved into sit against the headboard, before grabbing my wrists and pulling me to his lap.
“Look at me.” Jungkook said, once I sat straddling his thick thighs, the curve of my bottom resting against the hardness of his arousal. “ I was right, wasn’t I?”
I stared at him as his hands came up to pinch both of my nipples at the same time, playing with the hardened numbs till I began squirming on his hard length.
“ You were made for this weren’t you? To be my queen and my wife? Such a perfect mother too. I was right to choose you, wasn’t I?”
I stared at him, the handsome face that I wanted to hate., But it was hard. He had given me Jihwan. He had let me keep my sister at arm’s length. He had let my mother live out her years in the palace, although the grief had killed her two years ago. It could be worse, I told myself, lifting and moving to line the tip of his member against my body and sinking down on him. It could be so much worse.
“Fuck…yes. Just like that angel….” He gripped my waist, bucking up into me and my body caved, now used to the intrusion.
“Yes…” I choked out, when his thumb moved to press against my center, rubbing circles.
“I was right….I’m always right . Your body knows I belong inside you.”
He pulled me close, arms a vice around my body and I choked as he fucked into me .
“Say it… “ He demanded and I closed my eyes, sorrow and helplessness welling into tears and brimming over my eyes onto his shoulders and down his back. But Just as I was used to him inside me, Jungkook was used to the tears soaking him whenever we did this.
“Don’t stop.” I breathed.
The King after all was always right.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author's Note : Would you guys like another part? But please tell me what you thought !!
#jungkook smut#bts jungkook#yandere jungkook#yandere smut#bts smut#bts fic#jungkook fics#jungkook#bts scenarios#bts fics#bts fanfic#bts fanfics
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hi! i was thinking if you could write an imagine of reader being rick and lori's daughter and sister to carl, rj and judith. i don't have a specific idea in mind, but just her before and after the time jump, struggling with being there when lori and carl died, and looking for rick with daryl, her relationship with her siblings and michonne, maybe maggie and hershel too (i was thinking since carl was 10 when it all started, she was 7 so now she's 17) thank you so much, and btw i loved your imagines i've read so far 💞
Being a Grimes ~ Rick Grimes x Grimes!reader
thank you so much for requesting i really enjoyed making this one. i also have a series kinda like this about Jacey Grimes which i’m currently making a book two for.
warnings: alluding to sexual assault or rape, suicide, death, gore (lemme know if i’ve missed anything off here)
sorry if there is any mistakes please tell if there is and give me feedback i’d love to here back from yall
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request are open
It was strange for y/n. This world would be strange for anyone really. But she was different. At only a mere 7 years old when the world went to shit she struggled as did many others. With the recent loss of her father - one she didn't entirely understand - still protruding through her heart, it was hard - so hard.
When it happened she was at daycare. The teaching assistant tried and successfully ate the teacher in front of her. She was next and was so close to being eaten until Shane rushed in. He kicked Ms Twune and grabbed y/n. Her mom sobbed at the sight of her, covered in blood and the tears smothering her daughters face. Carl was shocked too. He wanted nothing more than to protect his little sister. His dad always used to tell him that that was his duty - his job. And he hated how he had failed in this moment.
They made it to the quarry soon after. Y/n thought the group was nice - well mostly. The Dixon brothers scared her was what she told her brother or any of the children she had befriended. But she was lying. Yes, she was scared but only of Merle. He was creepy and mean to anyone he saw. Daryl was somewhat the same but he always found himself being nicer to the young child. And often kept her company when Lori and Shane went for a ‘walk’ in the woods. Glenn was another she found herself drawn to. He unlike Daryl happily invited her company. Glenn was sweet and funny. He never failed at making her laugh till she felt like she was going to pee. They were good friends which came to a fault when he had to go on runs. She’d scream and cry and refuse to let go of him because she was afraid that what happened to her father would happen to him.
That’s what happened earlier that morning. Glenn and a few others were going into Atlanta, despite her dismay. Glenn assured her he’d be fine, which she didn't believe and continued her tantrum.
“Can yer’ shut that damn baby up?” Merle spat covering his ears.
Shane shot him a threatening glare while Glenn stayed preoccupied with the distraught girl. “Hey, it's okay. I’m coming back,” He insisted holding her tightly at his hip, “I promise you, sweet girl.”
“No, b-b-but dada promise too a-a-and h-he,” She stopped herself, sobs erupting from her small body.
“I know sweet girl, I know. But I’ll be back I know I will.” Glenn placed her on the back of the RV, “I tell you what I’ll bring you back some of your favourite sweeties, huh? Would you like that?”
Giddily she nodded at his proposition, “Yes! Yes!”
“Alright, then I’ll bring back some for you, okay?” She nodded smiling cheerfully, “I love you, kid.”
“I luv you too, dumbass,” y/n giggled.
Glenn looked around cautiously hoping no one heard that “Hey sweet girl you can't say that.”
“W-what? Why?” the child began to cry again, “Y-y-you say it.”
“I know b-but its adult words okay? Not y/n words. When you're older, alright?” She nodded her head again kissing his cheeks softly and hugging him. “Thank you, sweet girl. I’ll see you soon,” He kissed the top of her head and started towards the car smiling as she shouted, “With sweeties!”
The group returned hours later bearing a new man instead of Merle. Y/n waited patiently for Glenn and the aforementioned sweets. "Gen!" She screamed happily still unable to say his name fully. The man sprinted over to her, pulling her into a much-needed cuddle after the day he had.
"It's Glenn, sweetheart," He chuckled while correcting.
"Oh sorry Gen," She wrapped her dainty arms around his neck.
"That's okay, sweet girl. I missed you."
"I missed you too," She whispered before letting out a longwinded 'ew', "You stinky, Gen."
The man smelt his shirt and nodded as the potent smell of walkers reached his nose. "I know yucky right?"
"Yucky!" Y/n buried her face in Glenn's shirt ignoring the stench and just enjoying his company. She always became clingy like this after coming home from a run. He loved it. On runs, if he ever encountered a life-threatening situation - like the one today - he always finds himself realising how much she means to him. Glenn saw her as a little sister - one almost replacing the ones that were cruely ripped from him when this began.
"How was it?" She inquired.
"Not fun, sweet girl. But I got your sweeties and a nice man helped us out. Saved us," She beamed.
"I like the good man. I'll give him two kisses when I see him. Maybe even one of my sweeties," Glenn chuckled.
"Why two kisses, y/n?"
"One for saving you. Two for bringing you hom," Glenn grinned contently and kissed her forehead.
"Its home bubs with an e on the end."
"Oh," She mumbled burying herself again.
"Oh my God," Someone muttered as they exited the van.
"Dad! Dad!" Carl screamed causing Glenn to snap his head in their direction. Carl came running towards the man, Rick, who had saved them in Atlanta. Y/n hadn't moved yet as she feared it was only a dream. That her dada wasn't really here.
"Sweet girl," He pulled her out of his neck, "Look it's your dad." The child gazed over to where her brother had run to. Sure enough, it was her dad. He held Carl as he cried, looking to Y/n wanting to hold her too.
"Dada!" She screamed jumping out of Glenn's arms dangerously. The girl scraped her knee on the way down but continued throwing herself into the hug.
"Oh, Carl! Y/n!" She kissed all over his face childishly, "I luv you, dada."
"I love you too, baby girl."
~
The years hadn't been kind to Y/n. She lost so much. Too much in fact that it had driven her to the depts of insanity and made her do things to herself, to others that she more than resented. The first loss was her mothers. She wasn't there like Carl was but the grief burned through her still. Y/n was too young to understand it really. Just how she was when Rick supposedly died. Y/n couldn't understand where her mom had gone she just knew she had a little sister now. One she swore to protect.
She thought she had failed that when the prison fell. The young child was on her own. Injured and lost. She wandered through the woods for days until she stumbled across a group. The group were mean and despite her resistance wouldn't let her go. They hurt her in ways she didn't and wouldn't speak of it even now. But that all changed when Daryl showed up. He protected her - stopped them from hurting her. And eventually led her back to her family. Where for the first time she began to fear her father.
Terminus was next. The people there snatched her from her family. She was forced to watch from afar as they were guided into the crate. Rick fought against them, Carl too but it was to no use. They had sectioned her off in a playroom. Every once in a while an older woman came in to fed and played with her. She hated it. Being in this world for more than a year now she knew that people like them didn't just want to play even if she did. She learnt that from the Claimers.
Carol found her. Although having never have been all that close to the older woman - the only relation being the closeness between y/n and Sophia - seeing her after so long made her cry out of joy. Carol was happy too as she rushed out of that place to take her to safety. The pair ended up in the woods. Carol had stopped a moment ago to clean the dirt from her face, "lemme help."
The girl sat up from where she was put down and cupped some water splashing it on Carol's face. Carol flinched as the water hit her, "Uh thank you."
"Welcome," She looked away getting distracted by the nearing sound of footsteps.
"Get behind me, y/n," Carol ordered to which she shook her head.
"No it dada," She ran away from the woman and towards the group.
"Y/n come back here!" Y/n continued ignoring Carols pleas and crashed herself into the back of Rick's legs.
The father shot around and began to cry as he saw the child he thought he lost at his feet. "Oh, baby!" He collected the girl in his arms. Carl rushed to them too happy to see her alive after Gareth claimed he killed her. "Oh y/n, never leave me again, okay?" He looked directly into her matching blue eyes, "Promise me."
"I promise, dada."
Later Carol led them to Judith. Y/n was over the moon and refused to let her out of her sight, which was exactly what Rick was doing too. They found the church a while after. There they had some semblance of peace. She was glad to have Glenn back - Maggie too. Along with the new people although Eugene was a bit weird.
At the church was also when the questions started. Daryl had told Rick about the group they were with and regretfully had to inform the father how she was there before him. Rick asked y/n - begged her - to tell her what happened. But she refused. She couldn't say what happened. What they did, which just made Rick fear more. Eventually, she spoke a little about it. She was vague and could barely string two words together without crying. He hated it. He hated how this was a reality for his daughter. He saw the bruises they left. And he couldn't understand how someone could touch his child. Or how he could be so powerless to stop it.
Bob died. She didn't really know the man but it still upset her. Beth too. Although she was a lot closer to her. Beth was one of her only friends and was someone who would look after her when her father couldn't. They bonded and now she was gone.
After Beth's demise, they spent lots of time on the road. They suffered, almost died countless times but they prevailed. They got stronger - she got stronger. And they eventually found Alexandria. There everything was good again like how it was at the prison or even before this hell. She liked it there and didn't understand why the others were so sceptical.
Though that didn't last for long. Y/n began to hate the place when Carl got shot. Alexandria almost stole her brother from her. So she despised it. She refused to leave her brother's side as he adjusted to his injury. Yes, he found it annoying how she wouldn't leave him be and he often snapped at her. But she was there when he needed her. Despite the age difference and the many years of memories they had lost to this fight, she understood his pain. When he saw himself as ugly, a monster even, she made him think otherwise. She kept him afloat, which he was eternally thankful for.
Glenn was next.
She didn't believe it even after she was forced to see it with her own two eyes. She was next to Glenn in the lineup. She had to watch up close. Y/n had to be mocked by that man. She had to stay the whole night with her best friends brains on her face. After that night she blamed herself. She told herself that if Negan was just one person off she would be dead and he would live. He would get to see his child born and grow old with Maggie like they had spoken about. She wholeheartedly believed he deserved to live over her.
The war with Negan shook her to the core. At the time his face filled her nightmares. He just looked so normal. He looked nice even. Yet he hurt and he hurt and he hurt.
He killed her Glenn. And then Carl. It wasn't Negans fault although she did blame him. Carl had gotten bit. Y/n held his hand as he died in that tunnel as the home they had built above them fell. She got a letter too - even though she would rather have preferred to have her brother back. In the letter, Carl told her how proud he was of her - how thankful he was to have her as a sister. He told her to protect Judith, their dad and Michonne, who she had recently begun to call momma.
After Carl's death, y/n shut herself from the world well everyone except her father. For days she would cry until she couldn't anymore. She would scream and scream until her voice was gone. She just didn't understand why it had to be Carl? Why mom? Why Glenn? Why Beth? Why was it never her? The following weeks she found herself wishing it would be her next. She could never bring herself to say it out loud but with any battle, any fight, anything, she wished it would be her.
So when she lost her father her whole world fell apart. He was her consistent so why did he leave her? She was at the bridge that day. Daryl held her crying frame as Rick set off that final shot blowing him and the walkers off the bridge. Y/n Grimes' father was dead.
She stayed in Alexandria for a while afterwards. For the sole reason to protect her siblings. Yes, siblings - plural. Somehow through all the bad some good came from it. She just wished her father and Carl could've seen it. RJ Grimes came into this world 9 months later. And he was perfect. For months she would assist in taking care of him as Michonne wasn't doing the greatest without the love of her life. Truth be told neither was y/n she was just better at hiding it.
Until one night it all became too much. Y/n didn't know how it happened but she found herself balancing on the edge of her window. She wanted to jump - to end it. But she just couldn't will herself to do it. And when Daryl showed up she knew she couldn't. "Hey step away from ta window, alrigh'," The man ordered as he saw her shaking frame rocking back and forth.
"I-i can't," She sobbed.
"Ye' ya can. Jus' step back I'll catch ya," Daryl moved closer but paused when she shouted to stop.
"I can't, Daryl. They're all gone. They're all dead," The tears clouded her eyes. She shut them tightly picturing her families faces wanting so badly to join them.
"Please jus' step back, y/n. Yer' not alone. I'm here," He croaked the tears floating down his cheeks, "Don't jump."
"I love you, Daryl."
"I love ya too, okay? So step away from the window," He watched as she turned her head slightly catching his eyes.
"I love you but I can't. Tell mom, RJ and Judy I love them as well."
Suddenly she went to fall forward but Daryl reacted quicker. He gripped her waist pulling her into the room unwilling to release his grasp. "Yer' not leaving me," He told her as she cried into his shoulder, "Yer' cant leave me." Overhearing the chaos, Michonne entered her daughter's room to see the window wide open and the two of them crying. Daryl looked at her. The look telling her all she needed to know. Michonne began to cry herself and joined them on the ground.
"Y/n?" A small voice called from the door frame.
"Judith go back to bed, okay?" Michonne told her but Judith continued towards her sister. The girl said nothing as she wiped her sister's tears and held her hand.
It was 5 years later now. After her attempt, she left Alexandria with Daryl in search of her father. She didn't believe he was alive despite everything inside her wanting to. But Daryl did and after what happened they became a lot closer. He was happy she joined him. Even though the act of being out there was gruelling at times he was glad he could look after her. And if something would've happened to her while he was gone he could never have forgiven himself. Understandably Michonne was angry that y/n decided to leave. Y/n was her daughter and Michone her mother. They needed each other but she was willing to let Y/n leave to figure that out. It brought her peace looking for her father.
The silence was her favourite and as Daryl wasn't much of a talker she got lots of it. They got a dog too, which Daryl cleverly named Dog. Everything was a messed up version of okay but it was still good. Being out there made her find her purpose. She went home a lot more than Daryl did, which pleased her siblings and mother. It was always for a few days never longer as she feared she'd stay forever and she couldn't. As much as Alexandria is good it also drives y/n to a dark place. One she was in that night. She lost so much there. And staring at those four walls drove her insane. It didn't help how Negan was imprisoned there. Just thinking how close he was made her skin crawl. She knew how Rick visited him when he was alive that he believed Carl was right about the killing. That it had to stop. Y/n knew he was right too but she could never bring herself to one admit or two face Negan.
It felt like a story she read as a child when the Whisperers showed up. Like Negan, they scared her. So when she was told about his escape she only assumed the worst. The Whisperers took so many from them. Like Enid for example. Her story was cut short because of them. The two never really spoke but she understood how she and Carl felt for each other at a time. So ultimately it felt like she lost her final piece of Carl when she died. Y/n wished she had spoken to her when she could've. She wished she could've heard the untold stories they shared. She needed to know about Carl's final years with her. But now she's gone too along with those memories.
The war with the Whisperers took everything from them. The Kingdom. Hilltop. Alexandria. Along with the lives they lost in the process. With the group separated she found herself protecting Judy and RJ. Michonne had gone. Where she had gone to, y/n had no idea. For a messed up reason, she began to prepare herself for her mother's death before it was even announced. That was until she got the call. She was okay and... apparently so was Rick.
Disbelief was what hit her first. She couldn't hear his voice nor see his face so how could she know it was true. Michonne didn't know either she couldn't if he was really there, still alive. That night of the call she left. Without hesitation, she kissed RJ and Judith's heads, told them she loved them and told them to tell everyone else that and left. She left in the direction Michonne had told her.
She left to find her father. And she knew she wouldn't return until she did. "I'm coming, dad."
#the walking dead imagine#the walking dead#the walking dead x reader#rick grimes x reader#rick grimes imagine#rick grimes x grimes!reader#carl grimes x reader#carl grimes imagine#carl grimes x grimes!reader#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon imagine#michonne x reader#michonne x daughter!reader#rick grimes#carl grimes#daryl dixon#michonne#rick grimes daughter#the walking dead request
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𝔰𝔦𝔟𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔯𝔦𝔳𝔞𝔩𝔯𝔶 | 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔦 (𝔪)
❥akiteru x innocent fem!reader x kei tsukishima
❥summary: after finding out you have a secret boyfriend, your brothers are intent are making sure you know who you really belong to
❥warnings: incest, noncon, mindbreak, jealousy & possessiveness, heavy degradation, unprotected sex, slapping, spitting, mentions of age gap, threesome/spit-roasting, voyeurism
❥word count: 4.6k
part ii requested by anon
how oblivious you are.
you don’t notice that akiteru’s sweet smiles these days don’t reach his hardened eyes, that his sugary sweet words are sprinkled with malice, that he has nothing but murder etched on his face every time he looks at you. and of course you don’t notice, tsukishima realises. because you’re dumb. their dumb, stupid little sister who obviously thinks she could get away with being such a whore.
it’s almost laughable, tsukishima would’ve thought, if he didn’t feel utterly scorned. whilst he was so preoccupied with you falling into akiteru’s delightful, endearing little trap, he didn’t ever think you’d be falling into someone else’s. suddenly it all made sense- the little gifts of jewellery and chocolates you’d show your mother so proudly, the giggles from your bedroom late at night, going out less with your brothers and more with your mysterious friend before returning home with a soft scent of cigarette smoke clinging to your clothes and hair and your ruby lips swollen. you didn’t notice, but your brothers noticed everything. how could they not when their entire lives revolved around you?
and to be truthful, tsukishima had never seen akiteru quite like this. he was always the mellow, sweeter, calmer older sibling, the one who doted on you with a patience and affection tsukishima didn’t care for. yes, he loved you too, but there was something so utterly pathetic about your stupidity, something so fragile about your softness that made you entirely ruinable, and tsukishima wanted to do that. he wanted to be the only one to break you down into nothing but his dumb, little girl, to make sure he was the only god in your life for you to revolve your whole world around, to love him forever. and akiteru was an enemy to that, but first there was a bigger enemy the two of them had to overcome together first.
the perfect opportunity arises the weekend your mother goes away to visit your grandparents a few towns over. maybe if you’d been smarter, more perceptive you’d have noticed the danger brewing. maybe you’d have begged your mother not to leave rather than being so quick to usher her out of the door with a kiss to her cheek, telling her of course you’ll be good for your nii-chans, when are you not? maybe you should’ve noticed tsukishima’s eyes burning into your back with a mixture of malice and vengeance. maybe you should’ve picked up on akiteru’s wry smile and the tightness of the grip he presses to your shoulder when he agrees. “oh, we’ll definitely take care of her.”
tsukishima forces you into the car when he’s sent to go grocery shopping in exchange for akiteru cooking. of course the older brother insists you stay home with him, that you help him prepare for dinner in the kitchen, just like when you were children playing house. of course, tsukishima could see right through his older brother’s facade- beneath that sweet smile and sparkling brown eyes, there was that lewd fantasy of you being his good little housewife, his domestic goddess to fuck his children into, play happy families with. disgusting.
but tsukishima knows he isn’t any better- he doesn’t want to be away from you, he doesn’t want akiteru near you so he tells you you can come to the store with him, sakanoshita store in particular. the name of the local convenience store you’d often frequent back in your days at high school is enough to make akiteru freeze but you’re too busy grinning and rushing to check yourself in the mirror to notice the deathly looks your brothers exchange.
how stupid of you. you don’t think tsukishima notices his old coach’s eyes focusing on you the moment the little bell rings.
“tsukishima-kun, how are you?” the blond man smiles and your brother has to force a smile at his old coach, has to bite back the words that threaten to escape him when he replies. that stupid old man. and you, his stupid little sister, giggling so sweetly and playing with the necklace around your neck- the gold chain that was surely far too expensive for a college student to buy herself. you don’t think he notices how you and ukai’s eyes keeps locking when he’s ringing you up, how the smoke that rolls from his smirking lips smells the same as the scent that clings to you when you come home, how you wave so sweetly when you both leave.
you dumb little girl, tsukishima’s hissing to himself as his mind flicks to akiteru. how did you think you could get away with this? he should’ve known you’d be like this- a stupid, simpering slut pandering after an older man, thinking he can give you the world. he should’ve known from all the times you’d insist on coming to practise to watch him back when he was at high school, how you’d spend all your weekly allowances in the store, rolling your skirt higher and buttoning your shirt lower. he just didn’t think it was for that man out of all people.
it’s after dinner when akiteru’s taking your plate away that he turns to you with a wide smile across his face. but his eyes are cold. so cold tsukishima can see you’re recognising the malice that’s manifesting in them. he can see you squirm awkwardly in your chair, even if you’re intent on keeping that smile plastered on your face.
“dinner was so delicious, akiteru-nii! i loved it so much!” you giggle. “would you teach me how to cook?”
“did you think we wouldn’t find out?” his voice is ice cold and hard. it strikes right through the tense room, your smile falling as your widened eyes flicker from akiteru to tsukishima, confusion etched on your face.
“f-find out? find out what, nii-chan?” how pathetic. that little simpering baby voice may work on softening akiteru, but this is exactly why tsukishima would win.
“that you’re a fucking whore for ukai keishin.” the name makes you choke, your eyes roundening as you stare at tsukishima with utter shock, mouth hanging open. you don’t even get to splutter a response before he chuckles, continuing with his voice a harsh snarl. “how long have you been his little slut? was this why you’d always want to be at my matches? you hoped that if you cheered loud enough he’d fuck a gaping hole between your legs?” you look scandalised at his words, wounded even to be reduced to nothing but a dirty slut but the hurt flashing across your eyes gives tsukishima a thrill. more. he needs to see more. break you down into nothing but an utter mess.
“kei-nii!” you cry, your hands started to tremble as you point a shaking finger in his direction. “akiteru-nii, tell him not to say that!” you trail off when you notice how hard akiteru’s looking at you, his jaw clenched and his arms folded across his chest.
“why’s that, y/n-chan?” he says softly, but the darkness in his eyes is different. his footsteps are cold echoes across the kitchen tiles before he lowers his face to yours. “why would i stop him when he’s saying nothing but the truth? you’ve ruined yourself.”
your face crumples slowly, the tears building in the corners of your eyes starting to flow freely down your cheeks. how beautiful. how pathetic. your soft cries fill the room, shaking hands raising to bury your face in them but akiteru’s quicker when he grabs your tear-stained cheek, jerking your face roughly with his fingers pressing deep into the soft fat.
“why are you crying, y/n? we’re just confronting you about the truth- that you’re getting taken advantage of because you want to be a dumb, little whore.” he punctuates his words with mocking slaps to your cheeks, not harsh enough to actually hurt but you flinch and sob harder at every one.
“for such an old guy too.” tsukishima tuts, getting to his feet and towering over you. it makes you cower, your entire body quivering as you cry pathetically. don’t you know it just makes tsukishima even more excited, that breaking you is going to be just as fun as he imagined it to be? “you’re disgusting, you know that.”
“come on, kei.” akiteru chuckles, smiling coldly as he wipes your tears away. “she’s just a dumb baby- she didn’t know what she was getting into.” you look hopeful as you slowly raise your head, blinking at akiteru so fearfully with tears clinging to your lashes. “but that doesn’t mean you can get away with it- if you like older guys so much, you should’ve realised that nii-chan is right here.”
tsukishima can see the moment utter fear strikes right through you. you scramble to your feet, horrified sobs escaping you but akiteru’s too quick. his hand grabs your hair, tugging you back against his chest with his arm around your waist, easily lifting you off the floor as he grins wide.
“stop struggling. your nii-chans are going to help you to realise that you don’t need anyone else.”
“you don’t need to be such a slut for a man that’ll just fuck you and throw you away. so dumb.” tsukishima adds, smiling softly at the way you struggle against akiteru, crying feebly. “don’t make this harder for yourself.”
“nii-chan- no!! please-” you’re sobbing and trying to fight against akiteru’s grip but it’s in vain- he carries you out of the kitchen with ease, hissing with every kick you deliver to his shins as you wrestle in his grip.
“stop it, y/n- be good for me. come on.” he shushes you, gritting his teeth as he grips you tighter. your screams are louder, hysteric sobs and tsukishima slowly follows behind up the stairs, your wide, teary eyes meeting his. begging.
“stop being so loud, stupid girl.”
akiteru throws you onto your bed when he reaches your bedroom and you scramble away desperately, sobbing loudly but it’s too late. the door snaps shut behind tsukishima and he stands in the doorway, a twisted smirk stretching across his lips as he feels the blood rush to his cock. how pathetic. how feeble you are backing away to the edge of your bed, eyes wide with fear.
“n-nii-chin-” you hiccup. “please, i won’t see keishin again- just- just don’t do this to me, i’m begging you-”
“oh, baby.” akiteru coos, reaching out a tender hand which you flinch away from. he chuckles softly, glancing back at tsukishima with an amused smile tugging at his lips, one that tsukishima can only seem to return. it isn’t often he gets along with his brother, but this was definitely something they could bond over.
and then he’ll be beating him.
“isn’t she so cute?” you shake with fear, your face crumpling as you cry softly, making akiteru coo as he reaches out for you. you’re no match for his strength when he pulls you onto his lap, one hand pinning down your thigh and stretching them out whilst the other slides up to your clothed chest, holding your back flush against him.
“nii-chan- let me go!” tsukishima scoffs as he nears the bed, his lip curling as he watches you, hardening cock beginning to press against the outline of his pants.
“let me go first.” he demands. there was no way he’d let akiteru have a taste of you first- he simply didn’t deserve it. the older brother had spent too much time fawning over you, spoiling you with his sickly sweetness and look what it’d done to you.
“what? why would i let you go first?” akiteru scoffs, laughing mirthlessly as his grip tightens on you, making you squeal as you shriek.
“no- nii-chan, stop him please! i don’t want you to do this!” but neither brothers take any notice of you, the irritation and jealousy that’d long festered in tsukishima bleeding out as he scowls at his older brother.
“you’ve already ruined her with how much you’ve pampered her- now she’s some attention-seeking, greedy cockslut.” he hisses. “that’s why she’s whored herself out to fucking ukai keishin.” a cold smile stretches across his face as he turns to look at you. how pretty you look utterly heartbroken and hurt with your teary eyes wide and mouth hanging open. he knows his harsh words are ringing in your ears, that your heart is starting to break. maybe ukai keishin does love you. what were the words you’d used- ‘the one’? but you’re easy to break, tsukishima can see, as his cock twitches against the tight fabric of his pants. a little bit more, a good fucking till you’re dumb, and you’ll never think about that man again- any man again. you won’t be able to.
“that’s right, isn’t it?” tsukishima sneers as he crawls onto the bed. you squirm on akiteru’s lap, trying to force your head away but from the angle the eldest sibling holds you there’s no escape. “akiteru-nii made you think you're so special that you can have anyone right? that’s why you think ukai loves you? is that why you think you’re going to marry him? pathetic.” his nails pierce into your skin as he drags his hands slowly up your bare thigh, edging towards the hem of your skirt. “you’re nothing but a dumb cockslut to him. nobody will ever see you as anything more than a dumb slut- but not nii-chan.” you sob heavily and tsukishima hates that even now you’re looking at akiteru, begging him with your pathetic weeps and your weak, bloodshot eyes filled with tears.
“akiteru-nii, please-” but akiteru smiles calmly, shushing you gently as he presses a soothing kiss to your temple.
“be good, y/n. stop crying, that’s a good girl. nii-chan will take care of you afterwards, okay?” you shake your head wildly as his fingers begin to undo your shirt, begging one last final time but it’s in vain.
akiteru slips off your shirt just as tsukishima tugs off your skirt, leaving you bare and exposed in just your panties. a humiliated shriek escapes you but akiteru merely chuckles, his hands pushing your arms back and groping your bare tits, rolling the nipples between his fingertips as he presses soft kisses to your jaw.
“don’t be shy,” he coos, hips slowly grinding against your ass. “you’re so pretty.”
“for a little slut.” tsukishima snaps. his hand slaps against your clothed cunt, hard enough that you gasp and jerk in akiteru’s hold, your eyes filling with a fresh wave of tears and your bottom lip trembling.
“n-not a slut-” you whimper but he merely tuts, yanking down your panties to reveal your bare cunt.
“is this what you let ukai use, huh?” his voice is harsh and mocking, prising open your legs as you try to force them shut, your wails loud and drowning out akiteru’s reassuring shushes. “have you let him fuck this pussy yet? that’s the only reason why he’s interested, right?”
“n-not true!” you cry, body tensing as you squirm in akiteru’s hold. tsukishima meets your eyes, the fear evident in your widened orbs- but it just makes him want to ruin you more. it’d be so satisfying to see you reduced to nothing, getting fucked into a dumb, drooling mess on his cock, make sure you know nothing except him- no ukai, no akiteru, just your entire world permeated with him.
“akiteru-nii, let me go please- i-i won’t tell anyone.” you whisper. your voice cracks as you plead with your brother- even now when tsukishima’s the one unbuckling his belt you have the audacity to beg akiteru?
“look at me.” he growls, slapping the inside of your thigh to make you squeal, your legs quivering as the skin reddens.
“y/n, come on- just be quiet and take it like a good girl.” akiteru smiles, reaching out to massage the sore skin. “nii-chan will take care of you, don’t worry.” he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, pressing kisses that make you whine but tsukishima doesn’t seem to care- not if it makes you stay still as he pulls down his pants.
his hard cock is throbbing when it slaps against his clothed stomach, the flushed head leaking beads of precum and you begin to cry again when your eyes fall on it, your nails piercing into akiteru’s thighs.
“no- no- i can’t! nii-chan!” an agonised scream rips from your throat when tsukishima forces his cock into your tight little hole. it’s dry but your tightness feels so good around him, his dick being forced into your warmth as he groans with the pleasure, forcing himself to keep his eyes open to watch the tears stream down your face, mouth falling open with heavy pained sobs. you squirm, trying to pull away but with akiteru keeping you on his lap, there’s no escape from tsukishima driving his cock into you, filling up your little cunt as he thrusts as your spongy walls.
“you’re so tight.” he groans. “i would’ve thought ukai had stretched out this slutty pussy enough.” he sneers nastily when your face crumples, body shaking as your head falls onto akiteru’s shoulders, tears staining your cheeks. “hasn’t he used this cunt yet? cause that’s all you are to everyone, right? nothing more than a hole to fuck.” he slaps his hand against your swelling clit, the pressure making you jerk with the pain and you look so broken, so hurt when he grips your face, jerking you roughly to look at him. “well?”
“h-hurts.” is all you manage to whimper, voice hoarse as you break into soft tears. “please.”
“what, you’ve never taken dick before?” tsukishima snickers, thrusting his cock harder into you. your walls grip his dick tight, every vein and ridge rubbing against your spongy walls as you whine.
“kei,” akiteru murmurs warningly but it just irritates tsukishima more- how does his eldest brother always act so righteous, so sweet and saintly when he’s just as disgusting as he is, just as perverse and degenerate, that he wants to ruin you just as much as tsukishima does. “you’re going too rough.”
“so?” tsukishima spits, snapping his hips faster as you bounce in akiteru’s lap, gasping as you writhe. “a slut like her, she’s probably used to it.” he grits his teeth when akiteru snakes a hand between your bodies, his fingers pressing against your swollen clit and swirling it slowly, lips pressing soft kisses that clash with the rough way tsukishima pounds into your throbbing cunt. “that’s why you’re getting so wet- you like this, don’t you?”
“n-no!” you cry, your face falling as tsukishima grips it tightly, akiteru’s brown eyes burning into you with a growing darkness. “it hurts- stop!”
“but you’re getting so wet. you must be liking this.” tsukishima continues to croon, akiteru’s fingers rubbing faster to make your walls clench tighter. your growing wetness begins to squelch, beads of sweat layering over your skin and none of you can ignore how you sound less agonised, your pants breathy as you cling to akiteru.
“you really love dick, huh? dirty slut- how disgusting.” your walls clamp around him with each insult and despite the tears building in the corners of your eyes, you’re squirming with slick dripping down between your thighs.
“is that right, y/n?” akiteru murmurs, his eyes softening with a sadness that makes tsukishima want to punch him square in the face. you turn away from tsukishima to look at your oldest brother, your eyes widening as you register the grave disappointment etched on his face.
“no! ak-akiteru, i-i don’t- i’ve never had-”
“look at me when i’m fucking you.” tsukishima growls. he slaps akiteru’s hand away from your clit, gripping your jaw with the other, fingertips pressing deep into your tear-stained cheeks to force your mouth open. “stop trying to pretend like you’re not a cock-hungry, dumb slut.” he punctuates each degrading insult with harsher thrusts, his long fingers forcing their way into your mouth, making your eyes widen. your walls tighten around him as he presses his fingers down on your tongue, drool pooling around his limbs as he smiles sadistically. “go on, say it. say it and i might just let you come.”
“kei, not too much.” akiteru breathes heavily but tsukishima ignores him- he can see his brother’s hips grinding into you, his pupils dilating as his cheeks grow more and more flushed. how sick- he wants to pretend like he’s better than him, like he’s trying to help you but the sick bastard is getting off on it just as much.
“speak, slut.” tsukishima growls, pushing his fingers further down your mouth. he groans when his fingertips hit the back of your throat, your walls tightening around his throbbing cock as you gag, tears and drool spilling down your face. “what are you?” your words are garbled, saliva dripping down your chin and his hand as you try to speak, making him scoff as he rips his hand away from your mouth.
“how gross- you can’t even control yourself. what the fuck does ukai see in you? he really must be using you for this dirty cunt.” you sob hard when tsukishima makes sure to spit directly onto your face, the saliva clinging to your skin as you try to bury your face into akiteru’s shoulder but the older brother is slowly sliding you off his lap, laying you down on the bed as he kneels beside your face. the change in position doesn’t irritate tsukishima- in fact it gives him better access to fuck you deeper, his cock throbbing as the coil in his stomach grows tighter.
“y/n,” akiteru coos, wiping your messy face gently. “do you want nii-chan to make you feel better?” you nod desperately, clinging to his thighs that it sends a surge of jealousy striking through tsukishima- enough that he snaps his hips harder, shoving a hand between your bodies and pinching your clit.
“kei-nii!” you gasp. it’s beautiful- the sound of his name falling from your lips makes him grunt but it doesn’t last long before akiteru shoves his cock into your mouth.
your eyes widen at the intrusion, saliva spilling over his dick as he moans blissfully, holding the back of your head as he slowly rocks his hips into your face and as much as tsukishima hates it it’s the final push to the edge. the sadness and betrayal building in you, the hurt, the loss of innocence, the fact that you’ll never have that sparkle in your eye again is enough to make him cum with deep heavy moans. his cock twitches, hot ropes of cum splattering over your folds just as he pulls out.
you’re sobbing when akiteru pulls out from your mouth, a string of saliva clinging to his hard dick and although he shushes you gently, his eyes are only fixated on your ruined pussy.
“that’s what happens when you act a slut and whore yourself for men.” tsukishima spits. “you get treated like one.” you cry harder at his words, curling into a little ball but akiteru’s hands on your thighs stop you first, a small smile growing on his lips as he clambers over you.
“oh no, don’t cry, don’t cry. kei-nii didn’t mean it like that- every other man will treat you like that but not me, not nii-chan.” you sniffle at his words, rubbing your teary reddened eyes that you don’t even notice akiteru sliding his reddened, leaking cockhead along your cum-stained folds, gathering a mixture of slick and cum. “you didn’t cum, right? don’t worry, nii-chan will take care of you.”
tsukishima isn’t sure whether to feel disgusted or entranced when he watches akiteru slide his cock into your pussy, your wetness offering little resistance. you whine at the intrusion but you’re cut off by akiteru’s lips meeting yours, his kiss sweet yet feverous as his fingers twine with yours, pressing them onto the bed. as tsukishima watches, ignoring the slow stirring of his cock, he can’t help but feel the jealousy leaching into his veins; this almost could’ve been mistaken as something intimate, like two lovers- only it’s his siblings, after he forced himself onto you, degraded and humiliated you all because he doesn’t ever want you to be for another man. and watching you turn your head away from akiteru and crying as you stare at the ceiling, realising that you’ll never be rid of the stains of their violation, ruined for all men except them, gives tsukishima the biggest thrill he’s ever felt in his life.
“pretty girl, you’re taking nii-chan’s cock so well.” akiteru moans, one of his hands slipping down to swirl your clit, your soft moan barely audible under his heavy moans. “so good for me. nii-chan’s perfect girl, aren’t you?” you don’t reply, your lip trembling as you watch akiteru lower his face to your chest with teary eyes, a soft groan escaping when he wraps his lips around your nipple.
“but she’ll take any dick though, won’t she?” tsukishima spits as he wraps his hand around his cock. it’s not the same- it doesn’t feel anywhere good as your warm, velvety walls clinging to his length, the perfect hole to fuck. “you’d let anyone use you.”
he shuffles closer, stroking himself as akiteru begins to fuck you faster, ignoring your little whines of discomfort- or perhaps pleasure- as his head falls back with heavy moans.
“y/n- you feel so good- so good- such a good girl for nii-chan.” he doesn’t object to tsukishima forcing your hand away from his grasp, instead watching with widened eyes when he forces your hand around his cock, thrusting into your fist. you don’t try to fight it, instead lying limp and placid, your eyes glassy with soft moans the only sound escaping from you. “nii-chan will make you cum- don’t worry. nii-chan is the only one who can make you cum.” you whine when akiteru fucks you faster, his fingers rubbing your clit fast and each thrust making your eyes roll to the back of your head. it’s so sinful, so lewd to hear your moans grow louder, your hips almost bucking up to meet akiteru’s thrusts before you finally cum. a squeal escapes you as akiteru fucks you through your high and tsukishima can’t tear his eyes away from watching your wetness dribble down your thighs. he can only imagine what akiterus’s feeling- your warm walls clamping down on his length, pulsating around his throbbing cock and your slick drenching him-
fuck. tsukishima groans loud when he cums again, this time the sticky fluid splattering over your face. your mouth drops open with shock but it just makes it better- the stringy ropes of cum cling to your tongue and lips, ruining you in him.
“y/n, y/n, y/n-” neither of you register akiteru cumming until he’s chanting your name over and over, cheeks flushed pink as his hips stutter, head falling back as he releases in you completely. he pulls out slowly, smiling as the two tsukishima brothers watch globules of cum leak from your abused hole, a success to ruining you. but only one can win.
“you came in her?” tsukishima snaps. the anger flooding through him is hot and envious, made worse by the sweet innocent smile akiteru plasters on his face.
“well, someone has to do it for the first time. and what better person suited for it than me?” he looks at you with a wide smile, rubbing your leg softly and not minding about the finger marks beginning to purple on them. “nii-chan will always look after you, y/n. that’s why you don’t need anyone else- i hope you know that now.” you don’t reply, instead staring blankly at the ceiling with tears rolling down your cum-stained face. but akiteru doesn’t mind as he brushes your hair out of your face. “i’ll get you a glass of water and then clean you up, y/n. we can watch a movie afterwards- you can choose it.”
as akiteru leaves the room, tsukishima stares at you. you don’t move as you lie naked on the bed, the cum drying on your tear-stained face and your pussy a ruined mess and that’s when he realises how empty your glassy eyes are, how much hurt must be wrenching your heart now, how broken you must be.
maybe he should feel sorry for you. maybe he should feel disgusted with himself. but why doesn’t he? why is his mind instead whirring with all the lewd ways he can one-up akiteru and really make you all his?
#tw.incest#tw.noncon#tw.mindbreak#tw.jealousy#darkconfectionery#yandere!tsukishima#yandere!akiteru#dark haikyuu#yandere haikyuu#yandere haikyuu x reader#yandere tsukishima#yandere akiteru#yandere tsukishima x reader#yandere Akiteru x reader#akiteru imagines#Akiteru x reader#tsukishima imagines#tsukishima x reader#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu x reader
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