#hope you like it ;; | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writing-whump · 2 days

Text

Big brother to the rescue part 2

The very much requested part two of hurt Hector with Isaiah. Enjoy :)

"Branch leader, Grayson? Really? You let this crazy, competitive, arrogant little prick without friends lead a freaking branch?" Isaiah was muttering to himself as he drove.

He was fuming. The whole situation was so normal and so stupid and so dangerous.

Hector should know better. Grayson should know better. Delaney, Hector's second, should fucking known better than to leave Hector out of her sight. Or did she not know about the accident?

Yeah, that might have been it.

Hector was sagging in the passenger seat, leaning against the window. Isaiah wanted him close to watch him, but Hector was simply exhausted, head lolling to the side.

Hector wanted to go home. To sleep it off, hopefully, keep Arnie from worrying too much.

Isaiah didn't tell him he disagreed, and Hector was too out of it to notice. Served him right.

Isaiah parked the car under his own apartment, letting out a deep exhale. Hector didn't stir as they stopped, but there was sweat pearling on his forehead and he was that sickly white colour that looked horrible on his sunny tan.

The bandages helped a little, but the bleeding wasn't quite stopping. Just slowing. What the hell was wrong with Hector's shadow? Even if the biggest injury was the internal bleeding, his shadow should have been able to cover for the bites by this point. At least close them so Hector could stop losing blood.

That would not help the shadow. It was totally out of character, going against survival instinct.

"Let's get you inside," Isaiah said, when his glaring didn't wake Hector up.

He circled the car, hoisting Hector up, arm around his torso. It would have been easier to carry him, but he didn't particularly want onlookers noticing how badly injured Hector was. It was the middle of the night, but it wasn't out of the question someone from the Stark pack or any other territory they passed, didn't have their eyes on them.

This way it looked more like Isaiah was just supporting him casually instead of dragging him forward.

Isaiah breathed out only as they entered the elevator. Hector was blinking, slowly coming back to himself.

"Almost there. Hold on a little longer. Even better if you could manage to stand so I could open the door," Isaiah told him.

Hector's arm twitched as if he tried to move them, then went back to hanging helplessly at his sides. "Uhmmm...I don't feel very good."

Isaiah sighed. "Yeah, I know. That's why we are going there."

"...where?"

Great. Just great. "If you don't call for backup, I'll call mine," Isaiah said, fully prepared for incoming protests.

Hector said nothing, swaying a little in Isaiah's hold as they exited the elevator.

Isaiah propped him up against the wall to get out the keys from his inside pocket and open the door. "Wait here a second."

"I-Isaiah-"

"Just a second," Isaiah said roughly as he got the door open and switched the light on, trying to decide the best course of action.

On the couch? Maybe he could use towels so it wouldn't get ruined by the blood...but how would he stop the damn blood? That was the bigger concern. He should figure out why Hector's shadow-

There was a thump that had Isaiah's head turning immediately.

Hector slid down the wall all the way to the floor, looking dazed.

Isaiah jumped to his side. "You couldn't have warned me?"

"I feel weird..." Hector said, more confused than before, looking up at Isaiah with a lost, distressed expression. "What...what happened?"

Isaiah clicked his tongue. "It's the blood loss. You need to sleep." He pulled Hector up again, maneuvering him through the open door all the way to the couch.

"Lie down-"

"No, I want to sit-"

"Can't you listen to me for once? I know what I'm-"

"But it feels-" Hector swallowed heavily, "it feels like I'm gonna pass out if I-"

"Jesus Christ." Isaiah took the stubborn blond by the shoulders and pushed him down. He gathered the rest of the pillows under Hector's feet, stretching them up. "This will help with your stupid blood loss. Do I look like I don't know my way around some fucking bleeding?"

Hector whined, whether at the manhandling or at the tone, Isaiah wasn't sure.

This wasn't good. Isaiah was too freaked out. The calmness he felt in distressing situations, the reason he could pull over himself like a coat was nowhere to be found.

This was Hector. And it wasn't an appendix or a broken leg - something painful but safe and controllable. This was dangerous.

Isaiah had always done his best to prevent either of his two brothers and now his two packmates, to get into such a situation. His reasons were entirely selfish.

He couldn't bear it.

Nervous out of his mind, Isaiah walked over to the kitchen and the hall, switching the light on where he could. Like a signal flare. He wasn't trying to be quiet anymore.

That had Matthew, hair all ruffled, getting out of the room, rubbing at his eyes sleepily. "Zaya, what's going o-"

"Hector's hurt," Isaiah said curtly. "Wake Seline up and help me."

Matthew frowned, shaking his head like he could shake the sleep off with it.

Isaiah cringed at his tone and formulation - he never barked orders at them like that, he wasn't one to forget manners - but Matthew only nodded. "On it, man."

...

"Do you have an idea why his shadow isn't responding?" Seline asked as she searched through the cupboards in the kitchen. In her hurry, she didn't change out of her PJs and just wore a bathrobe on top that looked like a gray-pink kimono.

"It could be exhausted, humiliated...I don't know. He had been in a car accident this week, it could be too much to handle. It did heal whatever internal injury he had, but his stomach is bloated with the blood he keeps bringing up..." Isaiah's voice trailed off. He had a strong urge to rip at his hair or kick something, which wasn't productive the least.

"If we clean his wounds, will it just make them bleed again?"

"They are bleeding already as it is. Slow but steady." The bandages on his arms were seeped in blood and Hector was dazed and unresponsive.

"I need access to them if I try a song," Seline cleared up.

"Then I can- I could rebandage them and you could try it in the between and-"

Seline suddenly took his face into her hands. Her grip was gentle but firm. "Look at me. We can handle this. He isn't dying, he is just bleeding. He will be fine."

"You can't know that," Isaiah whispered.

"Sure I can. It's freaking you out cause there are some uncertain factors right now, but he isn't in danger. Okay?"

Isaiah's lips twisted tightly and he planed his hand on her wrist, leaning his forehead briefly against hers. The reassurment had something warm sickering through the freezing layer of panic over his mind.

Seline poured the hot water into the big cup with crushed herbs and went into the living room, Isaiah following close behind.

Matthew was crouched next to Hector, who had no shirt on so they could have access to the bites on his arms. Blood was running down both of them from the wounds in tiny streams.

Hector had his eyes closed, breathing ruggedly like each took an effort.

"Look, your worryrat of a brother is coming," Matthew said, gently shaking Hector by the shoulder, avoiding the wounds.

Hector didn't respond, eyes still shut.

"How do you always end up beat at my door, I wonder?" Matthew continued.

That had Hector's eyes fluttering open and he spluttered for air. "What- you jerk, last time I hauled your sorry ass through whole Vienna when you-" he interrupted himself with a cough, something wet in his throat.

The cough turned into a gag soon after, Hector barely managing to lean over the edge of the sofa.

Matthew, already used to the routine, held the trashcan closer so Hector could splatter some more bloody mouthfuls inside. The red wolf even rubbed Hector's back as he struggled, another cough bringing up a stream of dark red liquid.

"Was that really necessary?" Seline gave Matthew a stern look as she crouched beside Hector's head.

Matthew helped Hector to lie down on his back again, his tone completely innocent. "Yes. It's the best way to see that he is still alive and kicking."

Seline gave him an angry look, gently carding her hands through Hector's hair.

Only a witch could touch a wolf unannounced. Even when they weren't family or in the same pack, or had never touched each other before.

Hector winced, but then relaxed as he felt the hum of magic in her skin, face smoothing over.

Isaiah knelt by Hector's legs, planting both hands on his knees to keep him steady. Or maybe for his own sake, he wasn't sure. He wasn't sure of a lot of things today. For example, what would come out of his mouth, if he opened it.

Seline started to sing. It was a German song, probably because of the Austria setting it happened at. They usually talked in English at home.

Isaiah didn't recognize it, but it was soft and melodic, like a lullaby. Something about stars and moons coming together. The words didn't matter as much as the meaning in the witch's mind. The blood didn't go back, but as she continued to sing, she nodded at Matthew to take the bandages off.

The bites were open wounds that should have been, by all means, bleeding. Isaiah could actually see the skin closing itself together, though not healing like it would through a shadow. The bleeding stopped, the blood glinting, but not spilling over.

Hector squirmed under the spell like it hurt. Matthew and Isaiah both held onto him in case he moved too much, but the hurt wolf's expression didn't actually change as the song floated above all of them. The effect was like falling snow, big snowflakes caressing the skin, bringing comforting sparkling coldness.

They could all feel it.

Seline finished the song, looking at Isaiah. "Leave the herbs to steam. Saffron will help calm him down. Maybe even to coax up his shadow."

From that point onwards, somehow, without Isaiah's doing or asking, Matthew and Seline both divided the tasks so that Isaiah wouldn't have to leave.

Matthew cleaned the trashcan, Seline refilled the water and the aid kit, they both cleaned up the table.

Isaiah held watch over Hector, feeling both entirely useless and like he couldn't possibly move anywhere else.

Hector cleared his throat, opening one eye to a slit to look at him. "Anyone tell you that you are pretty scary when you are pissed off?"

Isaiah chuckled, some of the tension releasing from his shoulders. He shifted closer to lean his elbow next to Hector's head, turned towards the couch on his knees. "Once or twice."

"That's a good motivation as any to keep away from trouble," Hector said. Isaiah heard the unsaid promise in it.

The black-haired wolf sighed. "How are you doing?"

Hector wiggled experimentally on the spot. "Uhmmm...arms don't hurt that much."

"How's your shadow? Not coming up yet?"

Hector made a face, eyebrows drawing together. "I don't get it. I keep reaching for it, but..." He looked at Isaiah expectantly, like his older brother should hold all the answers.

Isaiah huffed. "I have a working theory."

"Yeah? Spit it out."

"Your shadow doesn't want to heal you so you can hurl yourself towards the nearest danger before it recovers."

"My shadow agreeing with you?" Hector scoffed, closing his eyes again. "No way." He shivered violently. "Could use a blanket or some shit. It's freezing here."

Isaiah got up, but Matthew beat him to it, hauling covers from the bed and throwing them over Hector. "There. Isaiah's, so you don't get freaked out by the scent."

Isaiah rolled his eyes. "You could have brought fresh ones, you know."

Matthew grinned and stalked away, unbothered.

"Think I could get a shower here?" Hector asked, fighting with the covers to get his arms on top.

Isaiah sat back down to wrap them in fresh gauze. Not so tightly this time, but to cover up what was still open. "Not until you can stand on your own, you can't."

Hector shivered again in response, grinding his teeth together. Isaiah finished with the right arm and went to work on the left.

"Any other complaints?"

"...Stomach still hurts. Not that bad as before."

Isaiah finished with the bandages and reached out with his hand towards Hector's torso. "Can you tell where you got hit?"

"Ow! Your hand's cold!" Hector complained. Isaiah was so glad to hear the energy back in his voice. "And stop touching my stomach, Jesus Christ."

"Oh, don't be so modest now, you have been lying here half-naked all night."

"Not my decision."

Isaiah ignored him, touching around. He could feel the swell of Hector's stomach still sticking out, but whatever he touched seemed to be okay until he brushed over the right lower area.

Hector groaned at the touch, curling up into a ball immediately.

"Ah, there it is. And you are still bloated as heck, I think that's the blood not digesting."

"Urghhhh...think you could...sit me up?" Hector's face turned paler than it was a minute before, so Isaiah complied. He slid a hand behind his back and lifted him upwards.

Hector sagged against the cushions, head tipped back with a deep sigh. A deep shudder ran through him.

Isaiah adjusted the covers so they reached all the way to his chin. “You are feeling nauseous again, aren’t you.”

“Shut up,” Hector grumbled, huddling more into himself.

“But you keep bringing such small amounts. We will be here all day with that tempo going on,” Isaiah mused, reaching for the mixing bowl on the table. It was smaller and easier to place into Hector’s lap.

“You got better ideas?” Hector swallowed nervously, glaring at the bowl like it offended him before looking away.

“If we triggered your gagging reflex so you could bring it up all at once…” Isaiah poured a glass of water from the pitcher, offering it to Hector.

“Terrible idea. I’m starting to doubt your medical experience,” Hector complained, turning green. His arms twitched uselessly at his sides.

Isaiah held the glass by his lips. “Drink it quick. The blood can’t be doing you any favours and it won’t let you rest if you keep throwing it up.”

“Horrible, horrible idea.” With another reluctant look, however, Hector opened his mouth so Isaiah could help him chug the glass down. His throat bobbed loudly as he drank, finishing the glass in one go.

“Okay, that hurts,” the blond said through gritted teeth, leaning forward. He took quick breaths through his mouth.

“Let it happen,” Isaiah said, planting his hand in the middle of Hector’s back. “It’s going to help a ton, I promise.”

Hector’s stomach let out a loud gurgle that echoed through the whole room. “This is humiliating as hell.”

Isaiah rubbed his back up and down with careful strokes. “Nobody’s looking.”

“Your freaking pack-”

“Is not here and they have been concerned and helpful all night. And right now it’s just me. Relax.” He followed Hector’s spine with his fingers as his stomach whined again.

Hector gulped down on air, but hung his head above the bowl, lips parted. A bit of drool dripped into it. He shuddered again, hand darting into Isaiah’s sleeve.

Isaiah blinked, a little surprised but he let Hector grip his arm.

There was no coughing or gagging this time. Just a bubbly sound of liquid going up and streaming from Hector’s lips almost without effort. Came out without struggling as if it was only waiting for the opportunity.

Hector moaned after the first gush, wanting to lift his head, but another followed right after. It was pure liquid tinged red, which had Isaiah’s body locking up with worry, but each wave came as easily as before, only climbing in intensity.

“Okay. All good now. You are doing great,” Isaiah said quietly as the vomiting slowly tempered off. Hector coughed up last remnants of pinkish saliva into the bowl, slumping back in exhaustion. Isaiah quickly moved the bowl away from sight and smell. Hector’s fingers were still curled up in his sleeve, but he wrapped the other around his back. “There you go. Now you can sleep and you will be all better, when you wake up.”

Hector grunted, eyes falling shut immediately, though his chest was still rising in fast succession. He trembled under Isaiah’s touch, goosebumps on his back and arms as he let go of the older wolf’s sleeve.

Isaiah tugged at Hector towards his lap. “Come on, lie down.”

Hector’s amber eyes flared open. “I-I’m not-”

“Don’t be such a baby about it.”

“I’m trying not to be!” he protested weakly, but gave up the resistance, falling across Isaiah’s lap. He nuzzled his head into Isaiah’s knee, shuddering again as his body warmth adjusted to Isaiah’s.

Isaiah pulled the covers over him, rubbing at the goosebumps on his shoulder and arm, away from the bites. “Gonna be warmed up in no time,” he promised. He was already getting uncomfortably hot under Hector’s weight.

The blond finally relaxed completely, as if he forgot he had been hurt in the first place.

#sickfic #emeto #emeto writing #emeto fic #bleeding #hurt/comfort #bromance #injury #throwing up blood #whump writing #whump #werewolf wip #Hector #my writing #this got like 3k lol #hope you like it #:3

25 notes · View notes

q1ngqve · 4 months

Note

idk if you take requests but like..........

dr ratio x bratty gf,,,, perhaps a bit of daddy/sir kink as well,,,,,,,, you're really good at writing him like i literally luv your work :3

(btw sorry if this isn't allowed)

ANON THIS IS SO (>/////<)♡

CW; fem! reader, implied relationship, bratty reader, sir kink, manhandling, murder, choking, knife play, fear play, biting?, vaginal penetration (with the knife & his dick), orgasm denial, slight degradation but he calls you pretty <3

do not, I repeat, do not act like a brat when you are with your boyfriend, unless you want to be completely and absolutely destroyed by him, verbally and physically. but where’s the fun in being good when you know how thrilling it is to rile him up?

veritas ratio’s eyes narrow as you prance around the room, giggling at something this random guy said, slapping him lightly on his arm. he’s not exactly one for jealousy, but when you’re so oblivious to the way other men are looking at you in your short skirt has his head going fuzzy with irritation.

truth is, you know exactly what you are doing. your boyfriend has been so caught up in his research the past few days he hasn’t had much time for you, and your fingers just aren’t enough to satisfy yourself. so consider this as punishment for not giving you the attention you needed.

the man’s lips graze your earlobe as he leans in, whispering something flirty that makes you sick in the stomach. you hide your face in his chest, acting as if you’re embarrassed, and wrap your arms around his waist.

before the man could slide his hands down your back, you were pulled away harshly by someone from behind, a small yelp leaves your lips as you’re dragged away and out the bar, tripping over yourself with almost every step from how fast he was walking.

your head whips up when the two of you finally stop, only to find your boyfriend glaring down at you, his hair tousled and brows furrowed, clearly displeased with your actions. you lock eyes with him, and a shot of electricity runs up your spine — ah, there it is, that delicious feeling of being hunted.

“get in the car.” and he’s gone.

you watch from your seat as he walks out of the bar ten minutes later, hair slightly wet, blood splattered on his jaw, his strides long and angry, and you feel yourself sink a little deeper into the leather seat.

silence fills the air as he drives, the tension so thick you could barely breathe. why is there blood on his face? did he just murder someone? oh god, it better not be that guy from before…did you just accidentally help in ending an innocent person’s life? you feel your body shake as you watch him from your peripheral, his jaw and shoulders relaxed, which is worse than when he’s mad and showing it.

you’re immediately dragged out of your seat when he stops, carrying and dropping you onto the hood of the car. his touch is gentle as he runs his fingers up to your chin, gripping at it harshly and forcing your head to tilt up uncomfortably to look at him.

your eyes adjust to the dimly lighted empty car park, legs closed shut as he towers over you, his shadows ungulfing your own on the hood. “what is that?” you break the silence with a stutter, your eyes flitting between his other hand and his face, body tensing at the sight of a bloody knife in his grip.

the man before you smiles softly, something he rarely does, so you know this is gonna be bad. “you like making me angry?” your lips part slightly at his question, knowing the answer is yes, but his aura is so terrifying that nothing leaves you other than heavy breathing.

his other hand grabs the underside of your knee, pushing your legs apart as he steps between your legs before leaning down even further, chuckling when your breath hitches at the intensity of his stare.

he flips your skirt up as he runs a finger up your already drenched underwear, the slick sticking to the pad of his finger. you squirm backwards when he lifts the knife, twirling it in his hand like a toy. “no— what’re you going to do with that?” the bloodied knife glistens under the dim white lights, and you swear his eyes turned a shade darker as he runs the tip down your neck, reveling at the sight of you trembling beneath him in fear.

“teaching you a lesson.”

your legs twitch involuntarily when the sharp blade reach between your legs, whines escape your lips as you feel it press softly against your entrace. tears sting your eyes, every inch of your body is telling you to run the moment he presses in harder, the thin fabric of your lace panties tearing immediately.

“‘m scared…”

veritas ratio laughs, the sound cruel and deep, straight from his chest. “this is punishment,” smirk returning to his face, making him look like a devil in disguise, “for acting like a brat.” a strangled gasp leaves you when he plunges the knife handle into your pussy, your walls tightening around the rubber like a vice.

oh god, there’s a knife in me, was all you could think of before he fucks it into you again and again, the rough textures rubbing deliciously against your gummy walls. the adrenaline heightening your senses, making this feel better than it should.

“you wanna act like a brat? wanna be a little slut and flirt with every guy you see? go ahead, be my guest. your boyfriend’s jaw finally clenches, allowing his anger and jealousy to take over as he bites at your collarbone, the stinging pain has you scratching at his biceps. “‘m sorry!” a flurry of apologies fly from your puffy lips as you cry from the pleasure and humiliation of having a knife making you feel like you’re in heaven.

“sorry, what?”

“sir— sorry sir!”

calling him ‘sir’ seems to bring out his animalistic side because the knife clatters on the concrete floor instantly, before being replaced by his dick. the air is knocked out of your lungs the moment he slides in, so long and thick, stretching you out nice and wide under him like a toy.

another whimper leaves you when he wraps his hand around your throat, squeezing tightly at the sides, successfully controlling the amount of air leaving and entering your lungs. panic fills you as you claw at this hand, tears streaming down your face like a waterfall.

“take it,” his other hand reaching down to circle your clit, “like the pretty little slut you are.” black dots fill your vision as you clench around him, getting off of everything that is happening to you.

your boyfriend groans above you as he cums, warmth engulfs you while he continues to pound into you, riding himself down from his high. “sir, ‘m close— please!” you manage to say breathily, your hips bucking into his on its own accord, chasing your high.

veritas ratio steps away in an instant and your eyes fly open at the empty feeling of your core, seconds away from your orgasm. “wait, no!” he flips your skirt down before kissing you roughly on your lips.

“only good girls get to cum.”

⭒ A/N — not proofread yet!

#I LOVE THIS SO MUCH #listening to city lights instrumental by ese 40’z while writing this was insane #scratched my brain so good #ANYWAY THANK YOU ANON THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE HEHE #HOPE YOU LIKE IT #🀥 lan’s writings!#☃︎ anons!#hsr #honkai star rail smut #hsr smut #honkai star rail #dr ratio #hsr dr ratio #veritas ratio hsr #veritas ratio x reader #veritas ratio #veritas ratio smut #dr ratio smut #dr ratio x reader

539 notes · View notes