hi!! could I rq medic with an extremely masochistic reader? =^.^=
getting surgery with no anesthesia and having someone just touch and rearrange and just play with ur organs seems like the most intimate thing ever to me teehee
Medic time, oorah! Please enjoy, I love the chance to write gore.
Medic x gn! Reader, Erotic Surgery
CW/TW: medical horror, blood, organs, unsanitary, surgery, cannibalism, slight dehumanization, general medical talk CW, death mention, graphic descriptions of gore
The operating theatre is dimly lit by just the setting sun outside, and the room smells so soaked through with blood that a leech would turn up its nose. The sterile green and white tile around you is stark in contrast. Your breathing fills your own ears, slightly ragged. The IV in your arm pumps you full of drugs that keep you well awake and aware and the pain is all-consuming, even with the small amount of opiates in your bloodstream. Not that you mind that. Speaking of your IV, Medic pauses to check on it, pulling back from the single deep cut along your chest and stomach to ensure the line is seated deep inside the back of your hand.
He catches your gaze and tuts at you, his lips curling into a smile. "Ouwww, is the pain too much already? Your eyes are so wide." His gloved hand comes towards your eye and holds the lids open for him to gaze in to. "Your pupil too, for that matter." He checks the other one, his top lip protruding outward as he focuses. Your other pupil matches, so he sees no cause for concern, humming with interest. "Tell me, how do you feel?"
"G-good. Bad?" You pull in a breath and stare down at the glistening blood leaking from the wound in you, entranced. "I don't know."
"So much for being a masochist then!" he teases, tugging at your cheek, leaving blood stains in his wake. "Don't be such a baby. We have just started after all."
The blade touches your skin again, along the same lines, deeper now. A moan leaves your lips, pleasure blooming from every blood-soaked line he cuts through you. You can't help squirming underneath him, and his gloves pat your thigh.
"You must be still, mein Tier. I need to have a steady blade!" You squeak as he drags the blade along the underside of your flesh, a noise that quickly turns into a heated groan and blood wells up that he doesn't even bother to wipe away. Medic chuckles as his hand pulls away your layers of skin to expose your guts beneath. If the Medigun was not trained on you, you probably would be in much more pain, and even with the blinding white hot feeling filling your mind, you're tempted to beg him to move it away.
"More..." you beg, voice quiet.
"What was that?" he says, comically holding up a bloody hand to his ear as though trying to amplify your gasping voice. "I can't hear you, you are bleeding too loudly!" You're too lost in sensation to reply to his teasing, so he turns back to your open stomach cavity. "Mmm... so viele Goodies in here!" His hand plunges into the wet, warm innards of your body, his face flushing over top a wide grin of excitement. A loud, choked moan leaves you, your eyes snapping wide open as your body jolts, trying to reject the intrusion. But it can't, and he knows that, and it serves to make him more excited.
Medic's breath is heavy as he grasps your lower intestines, and all but rips through the membrane holding it together, pulling them out like a string of yarn. Bloody, gory yarn. "Holy shit," you cry, the feeling of your body cavity being emptied making you grit your teeth. You look down to him to find him staring down at your guts in his hands, eyes wide as his smile. More of a snarl actually. "Medic-?"
Before you can inquire properly, Medic's teeth sink into the disgusting organ in front of him, uncaring of cleanliness. You cry out, still able to feel it, the blinding sparks that it sends through your body. Fists gripping into your own hands so hard it leaves imprints of your nails, you shudder and slump onto the metal table.
"Sehr lecker..." Medic says, voice small and breathless, eyes wild. He pushes his glasses up and laughs. "Aheh. My apologies! I got carried away." He glances over your flushed face and aroused body, and smirks. "Not that you seem to care. Filthy thing."
That sentence overtakes your brain. Filthy. You are filthy, getting off on this. But the fact that Medic not only doesn't care, but is also into it, only makes the degradation hotter. You are both filthy, disgusting, and you are together.
Medic's hands wander to your liver and kidneys, groping the organs in a way that sends flashes of red across your whole being. Your kidney squishes in his hand, seeping gore around his fingers. The Medigun doesn't stop your body from feeling like it's dying, and as blood and viscera pours out of your crushed organs, you feel closer to death than even a respawn. In the haze of pain and chemicals overwhelming your brain you look down at his face, and only one thought crosses your half present mind. "You look so beautiful like that, doc."
Medic laughs, almost cooing like a dove in the sound of it. "Well thank you! You look very, very nice like this too, Tier." He reaches over and checks your IV again. "Hoo, you are running out of that fast! Your blood just eats up any drug I give you. Well, it may have to do with how much you are losing. Eh, no matter!" He adjusts his glasses again, blood smearing on his nose. "I need to get you new kidneys, aheh, I may have crushed yours too much."
That's the last sentence you properly process, as the drugs in you begin to wear off as they finally fully seep out with your blood, sending you slowly into unconsciousness.
You wake up to Medic tapping your cheeks, drawing you out of the blackness. Your body feels better, though it aches and feels wrong inside of you. Lord only knows what manner of organs are inside of you now, knowing how much Medic likes to experiment. He's saying something that you can't yet hear through the ringing in your ears. "What..?" you say dizzily.
"I said wie geht's, how are you feeling!"
You try to have the brain power to consider it, but you lost a lot of blood. "Tired," is all you can offer. Looking down, your stomach wound is closed up completely, with the help of both stitches and the Medigun. Looking slightly further down, you find one of Medic's birds picking at your stitches. Medic follows your gaze and shoos it away, a nettled scoff leaving him at its audacity.
"Birds," he laughs to you. "Here, komm hier." He holds out a hand to you, a strong arm helping you sit up. You groan in pain as your stomach bends. But it certainly isn't unattractive.
You grin at him with slightly gritted teeth, feeling warmth pooling inside you again as you think about what you just did. You wrap your arms around his shoulders flirtatiously, sighing. "Medic, you have got to hurt me like that more often."
He smiles at you, hands already grabbing at you again. "It would be not only my pleasue to, mein Schatz, but yours too."
Are you comfortable writing yandere Heavy headcanons with a male reader whos the enemy's team Medic? 🏨
Of course, anon! Enjoy some BLU Heavy content, though you can read it as RED if you wish. This is somewhat a fic and somewhat headcanons, I lost the plot somewhere apparently.
Heavy doesn't have interest in most people. He's quiet in the corner most times, uninvolved in the action. Though he usually has an amused smile to give his own team's antics, he prefers to keep his distance. He listens and watches as both teams move around him, in battle and out. But really, all he cares to note is whether they're alive or dead, and whether it's someone he's hired to enact violence on. And he loves violence. The battlefield is his zone, the one place he feels like he can do what he was made for. And the battlefield is also where he met you.
His owns team's Medic is someone who has his respect and his friendship, and he can instantly note the same traits in you. Violence, sadism, and the ability to outsmart even bullets. He doesn't get to actually examine you much, considering he's mostly focused on killing you. He starts to get... distracted. Which is confusing for him. Killing is one of his favourite things. Why would anything be more interesting during a fight? You are, nonetheless.
He's been watching you more than he has been killing you. He went to Ms. Pauling's office on the BLU base and looked at the files on you, only a few minutes of glancing lest it be suspicious. He's the only one who even knows the other team's files are in here. All the listening pays off once in a while. You have a nice face, he thinks. The thought warms him in a way that makes him set the file back in its place and leave it behind.
Seeking you out to kill becomes a fun hobby for him. He likes the way you flail. He likes the way you fight and fail. He likes the way you call for your team and no one comes for you. He likes the way you bleed. He likes the way you die. And honestly, he wishes that respawn would leave him with a scar or two from your bonesaw.
You're doing everything you can to avoid Heavy on the battlefield. You can't understand what's made him so aggressive towards you out of nowhere. Or why he smiles like- like that when he kills you. Basically everyone on that field is a sadist, true, but it looks a little too joyous. You don't like dying, who does, but it's not... terrible to be so easily manhandled like that.
It becomes more of a mutual game between you two. Cat and mouse, really. The mouse always loses in the end, and at this point you'd be lying if you said it wasn't exciting to lose. You can't help wondering if he's excited too, ripping you apart and throwing you around. His gun is barely involved anymore, he wants to have his bare hands on you when he hurts you.
You start finding gifts for you left at your base. Simple things that could be left by anyone - your favourite book or snack, a new set of expensive scalpels - yet no one on your team will admit to giving them. They joke about a secret admirer and try to get each other to fess up with playful violence. But nothing comes of it, you just grow accustomed to them
Heavy makes photocopies of your files. He reads and rereads them, no longer able to deny how obsessed with you he’s become. The photo of you sits hidden under his bedside lamp in his room on the base. He pulls it out at night to just stare at it in silence, contemplating. He plays the memories of you in his mind in the same way. Covered in blood, grinning as you kill or heal in the distance, beaten under his hands… He feels like his head will crack open if it becomes any more full of you.
You notice even more of an uptick in him hunting you down. Compensation for how distracting you've become to him. You can’t help but revel in the almost obsessive way you’ve begun fighting each other. Neither of you are helping your team properly like you should be. His touches as he holds you down become almost gentle before they rip you apart, touching you in places that would be inappropriate at best. You come out of respawn blushing and gasping, but you can’t see it being anything other than an accident, especially in this line of work.
Heavy can’t get rid of you. His mind is overtaken by thoughts of you. He can’t focus on his books and he’s lost all interest in his own team by now. Late at night, while failing to read, he pictures a life where you aren’t contracted into this job. Where he can have you without consequences and you want him the same. If he could have you, even just for a night, he thinks it might buff out the you-shaped hole in his brain. No, it can’t be real. If he has you it would have to be coerced out of you. It would need outside help, planning. If he wants to have you, it will have to be forced.
cont.
It's a seemingly genuine coincidence when you wind up at the same bar in town. You instantly see each other, and you both instantly go on guard. You hide in your drinks and try to look uninteresting. A strong hand taps you, gently, on the shoulder. You know it's him. Your mind replays every death at his hands at once for a moment, before you manage to turn around. Silent, he just looks at you. His lips are pursed as though deep in thought. He clears his throat but doesn't speak, instead holding out a drink to you. He bought two of the same one? As you stare at it blankly, he seems to become frustrated with your silence. "For you. Is just whiskey and coke." He sets it in front of you, and then he pulls out a chair at the bar beside you. With the amount of muscle and weight on him, you wonder for a moment how that stool can hold so much man. You ignore how it makes you sweat.
He's quiet. Doesn't even look at you, just swirls his drink in his glass. You swallow, dry mouthed, and look at him. "Why would I drink something you gave me?" you ask, suspicious. He smiles slightly, eyes closed as he lets out a small rumble of a laugh, pulling his fur lined vest closer to himself with his large hands. Just barely entertained. "Doctor," he says, "I am not paid to kill you right now. I do not like poison kill, anyway." You let out a nervous chuckle, because he's right. This isn't the battlefield. He doesn't have any reason to hurt you right now. You drink with him.
Actually, you maybe drink too much with him. But he's just as wasted, it seems. You both are loose lipped and talking far more than either of you do typically. Every team secret is fair game, it's like all the typical decorum between the teams falls away. Like you're normal people, meeting at a bar. He seems almost sleepy in his distance as the night goes on, soft and nervous expressions that look odd to you compared to the usual faces you've seen him make. He doesn't look harmful at all. A heavy haze of relaxation makes it all feel so nice. It makes your guard fall completely.
Heavy is watching you, even as he also drinks. He only has to drink for so long until the first drink's secret hits you. Flunitrazepam, as his own team's Medic recommended to him. Takes a minute, but you most likely won't even remember what happens to you. His own drinking is more to quell his nerves. He knows it's not practical to have your forever, as much as he finds himself wanting that, but this drug can give him the chance to have you for at least... one night.
The bar closes, and you try to stand up to head out, slurred voice trying to say farewell. Standing up out of your chair proves too challenging, and your legs are too weak to hold you, falling from under you as you gasp and get ready to hit the floor. Heavy catches you before you can, and you're limp against him for a moment as he sets you back on your feet with support of his heavy arm. "Doctor is too drunk," he says near your ear, a hot whisper. You blink to try and focus more, able to pull yourself to standing on your own with wobbling legs. "Ahah, a- a bit t-too drunk, yeah," you say, stumbling over your words. "I need to get- get back, now. I am... I am needed tomorrow o-on our base."
Heavy puts his arm back on you, under the guise of supporting you as you sway. His expression betrays nothing of how fast his heart is pounding. He's never been this close to you without killing you. You're more soft than he imagined, yet firm, and seem like you'd typically be very strong and steady. Right now you're weak, muscle tone basically at a zero, leaning directly against him like he's never hurt you in his life. "I get motel for you. Maybe... me too. Cannot drive." He says it so matter-of-factly that you find yourself nodding along. Your hands cling at the soft lined fur at the edges of his vest as he helps you get across the street. The walk is nothing but a blur of lights in your mind, neon to warm yellow to blips in darkness until your body hits a soft bed. You sigh dizzily, closing your eyes as your body sinks into the terrible motel bed. The overhead lights stay off above you, and everything is so... relaxing.
Heavy sits on the opposite bed for now, chin in his palm, watching you intensely. You're soft against the bed, doctor's coat splayed beneath you. He stands, the bed creaking enormously as his weight leaves it. Stepping over to you, his hand cups at your cheek, feeling your skin. Your eyes blearily open as he touches you. You manage a hum of confusion, trying and failing to sit up. "Shush," he mutters, pressing you back down with one hand. He squeezes your chest while it rests there, clenching his jaw as his eyes graze over you. His large fingers grasp at the buttons of your coat. You look down at him blearily, huffing out a heavy breath. You seem to at least be processing that something sensual is happening through the confusion.
Heavy carefully undoes the buttons. Your coat is maybe the one thing he won't rip apart. He wants your dignity in battle to remain in tact even if nothing else does. You're his favourite opponent. Pulling it off your arms, he touches the red insignia on the arm of the coat, smirking to himself. Your hand weakly comes up and grasps at his arm, barely certain if he's there, if this is a dream. Your touch is so weak he barely notices it.
The rest of your clothes are not as safe from his strength. He grips at your button up shirt and tears it open at the middle, the threads ripping slowly. He just wants to see your body. Feel your body. Maybe, just maybe, even see more of your blood. Heavy disposes of your pants in a similar way, the remains of them hanging on the ends of your legs. You definitely know something is happening, grunting at him and trying to turn yourself over. His hands hold you down as he gets onto the bed with you, your weights together on the cheap bed threatening to bend it in half. "Lay still, doctor," he orders. "Lay still." You breathe out shakily in your haze, teetering on unconsciousness as he gropes at your frame. His hand travels down to your crotch, large hands surrounding your soft cock. He just feels it, for a moment, breath deepening. You harden slightly in his hand, body responding naturally as it will. It makes his throat dry and his body hot. You're so small beneath him, and you aren't even a small person, really. You groan weakly, and the sound spurs him on further.
Heavy's hand surrounds your throat. At first, he massages at the delicate skin, feeling every muscle below roll under his finger pads. Then, he's squeezing. Too hard. You're too far from your team's respawn, and he can't kill you here. As he squeezes, you begin to wheeze, and your eyes open as much as they can. You try to speak to plead somehow, but it comes out as a breathy whimper. You claw at his arm, and even though you break his skin, it doesn't make him let go. His other hand grips both of your wrists and holds them above you. His eyes bore into yours for a moment as his hand squeezes the air from you. Just as you begin to turn red, he lets go. You draw in a weak, deep breath groaning. The now un-busy hand returns to your half hard cock, fondling it as he breathes heavily.
You're almost completely hard, even as out of it as you are, and that certainly doesn't help his own hard on. The haze over your vision makes everything that's happening confusing, but fingers that big inside you are not ignorable. Your slow breath hitches and your back bends upward. Heavy watches you through half lidded eyes, lips pressed together thinly. His free hand palms at the front of his pants and he grunts hotly. "Body," he mutters. "Doctor's body is perfect." His face is red as he runs his hand over your chest and arms, down your stomach to squeeze at your cock again. You're overwhelmed, panting slightly without fully understanding what's happening. But it feels good. You know that it feels good.
You can feel something wet press against your hole, dizzily raising your head to look down. Heavy brought lube. He isn't stupid, and he doesn't want to ruin your body too much. As he presses into you, his eyes won't leave your face. He strokes your cheek, pretending for a moment that this is consensual, real. That you're normal people already in a relationship with no contract work preventing you from being together like this. Moans that definitely sound consensual keep leaving your mouth as you writhe slightly under his grip. You're starting to slip out of the world, feeling warm, thick darkness overtaking your brain. The rest of the sex is a blur untouchable by your memory, except for how tight you're held as warmth floods inside of your body.
The next morning though, all of it is untouchable by your memory. You can remember going out drinking, and your clothes are half destroyed for a reason you can't place. Getting out of bed, your legs try to give out under you, deep pain from inside you causing them to shake. You can feel wetness on your thighs. You try to remember what happened. You can't remember what happened.
You're late to the base that day, and you get chewed out by basically everyone on your team. You can't take a day off for pain in a job like this, so to battle it is. Heavy watches you from a distance, trying to mentally be in the place where you were, the faux consensual situation that lived in his head. Nevertheless, he has to kill you. He kills you anyway, with bare hands, just to feel the touch of your skin. Just to let his obsession feel less real as you bleed under his fists.
Hi there! Do you think you could make a Sniper x Medic x f!Reader, or just one of f!Reader x Sniper? You could go crazy with it for all I care lol. Thanks!
Hello, dear anon! Please enjoy this combination of headcanons and a brief nsfw fic.
yandere!Medic x yandere!Sniper x f!Reader - Of Dogs & Lambs
[CW: weapons, threats, dubious consent, noncon, reader having an anxiety attack, reader dissociating, stalking, lovebombing, mentions of gore/surgery/blood, manipulation, captivity & kidnapping]
Sniper and Medic are both pretty cruel, all things considered, but in remarkably different ways. And even as partners, they fight over it often. Yet when meeting you, they thought the exact same thing. 'That's going to be ours.'
Sniper takes to his usual habits, stalking from a safe distance. Observing your routine and absorbing any detail he can from five miles away. Diligently reporting back to Medic every night for them to discuss you in private. Sniper describes in detail the beauty of your naked skin seen through your windows, and Medic fantasizes about skinning you as a trophy.
As for Medic, he will not shut up about what lovely organs a nice girl like you must have. How it's been so long since he had a woman to toy with (no offense, Mick) and how you must hurt in such beautiful ways. Sniper finds himself imagining alongside him, only offering his wheezing chuckling and bright red face. They wind up having sex right after discussing you often, but it's not enough, nor does it satiate their growing mutual desire for you.
Sniper couldn't be the one to make the first move - he's far too avoidant when it comes to the delicate nature of socializing - but Medic would be more than happy to. Though it may be hard to even tell he means it romantically. He's the type to say "I want to be inside of you so bad," and mean that surgically, so most people close to him are desensitized to flirtatious sounding quips. You would only notice the severity of his seriousness when his reserved boyfriend steps up with a quick, clarifying, "And me. I wanna be inside you, too."
They're somewhat scary together, leering at you like wild dogs. However, a flash of one or multiple weapons would be enough to stop you from saying no. After all, they clarify, they want you romantically too! And doesn't that make it better? Medic's hands would be on you from the moment a hesitant 'yes' left you, but not aggressively. Not yet.
Wooing you is crucial to your cooperation, Medic has to remind Sniper that night back on base. It's important not to scare women off, don't you know. Medic views women as more delicate socially, but certainly not physically. He knows you can survive whatever he wants to give to you. Sniper is less willing to wait. He wants you, and fast. He's remarkably needy when it comes to physical desire, and you are no exception. It overwhelms his usual - albeit twisted - ideals of rights and wrong, making him more than willing to follow Medic's every plan for you.
It's an unexpected good time, being with them. There's a front being put on, you know that, and you're not stupid. But it is actually pretty nice to watch them fawn all over you in their own ways. Medic is more classically romantic. He buys you lavish gifts and is physical with his affection, a doting boyfriend with only slightly too wide of a smile and lingering hands. Sniper tries to do his own version of the same, taking you to secluded dates with just you two. A nature walk, fishing, fast food, and a night in his van together. Medic takes to referring to you as his 'little lamb,' a nickname so saccharine it melts you. Sniper often rolls his eyes at it, but he has to agree, you're akin to a small, helpless beast, just like the animals he helped raise as a child.
They're so different you wonder how they found each other sometimes. But when the three of you are together, you definitely notice a bit of banter and lingering gazes between them that reassure you they enjoy being all together like this. It's comfortable, and it's starting to make you forget the knives and guns always on their hips.
cont. (small fic begins)
After five months of dating, they take you to 'their house' for the first time. You're a bit suspicious because it honestly looks like a showroom rather than a house. Completely curated and nearly not even lived in. Medic is quick to tell you that it's mostly his home, which softens your anxiety as he does seem a lot neater than Sniper.
They take you on a tour, and it is a lovely home. There's plenty of space, even extra bedrooms, and a fully stocked kitchen. Large grey pinpads are on the outside of most of the doors, a thought that only catches your passing attention with how much they're crowding you and moving you around. They each take one of your hands and pull you towards the master bedroom. You chuckle at the obvious flirtation and let them herd you inside. The bed is large, and the room is decorated in shades of white. You're gazing around and don't have time to notice before Sniper has raised a strikingly large knife to your throat. He clears his throat, mouth hanging open for a moment, but can't seem to say whatever he was meaning to. "Reader, if you would be so kind..." Medic fills in with a firm hand on your shoulder, his tone turning your blood to ice. "Get in the bed."
They guide you to it as Medic locks the door with a button from his pocket. Medic's smile reminds you of a hungry canine as he moves back towards you. You sit down, queasy with anxiety, and they surround you, Sniper behind you with that knife, and Medic in front. Medic's hands are on you instantly, his reddened cheeks creased with a huge smile. He lightly scratches his nails down your arms, staring directly into your eyes as you shudder. "Finally, aheh. I get to touch you! Mick, if you will," he says. That knife moves down your body, slow, teasing in another circumstance, and then swiftly cuts your shirt from your body. A thin scratch pricks up blood, and Medic immediately leans down and laps it from your skin.
"What was it about not scarin' off girls?" Sniper grumbles at him.
They have you between them securely as Medic's fingers wander to his pocket. He pulls out red surgical gloves, and your breath hitches in your throat. "What- what are you doing with those?"
He looks at his gloved hands as if confused. "Er. I am going to touch you, Reader. Your genitalia to be precise. It may be mine now, Haustier, but it's still such a filthy place."
You can't help snorting a laugh at the ridiculousness of his words, even as you start to cry. "Why not just ask? That can't be it. What are you going to do?"
Sniper's laugh rattles in your ears, a smile on him that looks more like baring his teeth as the sharpened blade digs into your neck. "Just this, for now. But... The doc's been having a lotta thoughts about your body. 'Specially the inside of it." He taps the knife's sharp tip against your stomach for emphasis. "He seems to think your organs must be-"
"Something special!" Medic finishes. "But we can save it for the next time. I forgot to mention that this entire house will be yours now, Reader! You can be nothing but ours. Forever, maybe! It will have to stay locked up for, eh, the first few months." His gloves glide down your bare torso, cold and invasive. He leans right to your ear, his breath coming out in a shudder of excitement. "But I'm sure you will adjust. Humans are so adaptable."
"Can we get on with it?" Sniper says testily. You can feel how aroused he is, his body pressed against your back needily. Medic tuts at him, but he does stop wasting time.
It's barely sex, at first. More like Medic aggressively shoving his fingers into you as deeply as he can fit himself, watching you squirm with pain with that knife to your throat. He praises under his breath, swiping his fingers around every corner of your insides. Sniper's mind is definitely also on the physical though, as Medic has only had time to bring you half way towards an only half desired orgasm before an antsy Sniper throws him off of you and pins you to the bed with his blade.
"Remember how we said we both want to be inside you?" he taunts, letting you know exactly what's coming. He stares at you hungrily before licking a tear from your cheek and shuddering. His dick fits in you snugly, only thanks to the fingering, but it's violating no matter how little pain there is. You try to lose yourself in it even though you can't stop crying. You're just having sex with your boyfriends. It's all okay. It even could feel good if you let it. Until Medic climbs towards you, too.
Sniper flips on his back with you laying on his stomach, still speared on him, avoiding his eyes as they try to bore a hole through you. You feel Medic's cock press against your already full hole and gasp, a strangled groan leaving you. "Please, I don't- I can't take you too, please-"
But it goes ignored as Medic slowly presses his larger cock into you. The stretch sends white through your vision, and you can't help starting to cry anew. But Medic soothes you, oddly. Petting your back and cooing in your ear about how much of a baby you're being. "I stretched you enough, Reader, yet you cry on our cocks like a little lamb! Doesn't it feel nice?" His hand reaches around and strokes you, adding to the building pressure in your gut. "Don't you still love us?"
It sounds mocking, but you whimper, knowing there's some truth to it. You're deluding yourself into it. It takes the hurt away from their betrayal.
Before you can think fully, Sniper begins to move, and fast. Both you and Medic groan at the sudden friction, Sniper panting roughly in your ear, hands gripping into your hips hard enough to bruise. Medic bites into your shoulder and starts to thrust too. It all dissolves into a blur of pleasure and fear as you let yourself get lost in sensation, so you don't have to think about the fact that you could have seen this coming from miles away. That it all feels like nothing but your fault for even thinking they could be normal partners.
They pepper your body with cum, decorating you with the fruits of your assault. And you expect, maybe, to be left to rot in that locked bedroom, but instead they carry you to a large shower in the master bathroom and bathe you, then each other. Sniper won't stop whispering apologies and lightly kissing your flesh as he soaps you, some honor code he seems to have broken in his haste to have you, and in his getting swept up in Medic's plans. Medic simply hums cheerfully as he bathes, not even acknowledging the circumstances. The warm water and soap hide your tears from them.
You have a new life now. In a big bedroom, then slowly a big house, all to yourself. They visit daily, if not hourly, when they're off work. You slowly fall into the groove of it, being their little toy. It's not so bad, you repeat to yourself every day. And it's definitely nicer than having to work a job or deal with regular people. At least, that's what you tell your unbelieving reflection each morning. But until they decide they're done with you, you will live here. A doll to be experimented on, a facade of a girlfriend, a house pet to what used to be just lovers, not captors. It was never your choice, from the moment they wanted you as theirs.
Hey, recently saw your AU! And let me say, it’s so unique!
Do you have any headcanons about a certain yellow lemon alien?
I’m talking about Simon in your Spunk Funk AU?
Thank u thank u 🥹🥹.
So if some of my followers were tuned into Simon in spunk funk (not slow dunk), he’s known for liking Cluckr (but obviously he doesn’t like Simon back.)
But yes I do have some
Simon is an attention seeker and he’s not afraid to abbot it. Light, camera, action.
Simon is afraid of Mr black, Jevin, Turner, Gamboge, Radd, n wenda. We can say he’s a scaredy-cat, but it’s okay! He’s good friends w Oren, Vineria, 1IL6RQ n G543B.
He collects art of any kind of Clukr. Maybe even urs 🤔
He, for some reason, rlly likes fish
Some ppl is neutral towards Simon (Suninator, OWAKCX, G543B, Mr. Tree, Cluckr)
Simon is mentally unstable (obviously)
Simon doesn’t like chocolate, which is why Bruno is alive while Simon hurts himself for Cluckr
Durple, Oren, n Simon have a good friend trio. They laugh quite a lot at “funny” vine videos
He actually doesn’t mind being seen as a female or feminine
In his oldest design, he used to have a scar (but I scrapped it)
Simon is one of the few that r clumsy
Simon n durple play fall guys
He is confused on why Pinki dislikes him n Vineria. He assumes it’s bc Oren talks to both of em
Surprisingly, he’s not a yandere
Few of his personality traits r clumsy, timid, n fair
Simon is still convinced that Radd n Vineria r dating (which they’re not, but he thinks they’re lying to him for some reason)
Simon thinks dorado is a cool guy n would obsess over him if Cluckr didn’t exist
I used to live with my family in a small home 🏡 filled with warmth, love, and safety 🤍✨ We would gather around a simple table 🍽️, laugh together 😊, dream together 🌸, and feel secure despite everything around us. But suddenly… everything changed 💥😭
The occupation forced us to flee our home many times 🚶♀️⛺ Every time, we held onto hope 🤲 and told ourselves: “We will return soon.” 🕊️ But the last displacement was the hardest… because we never came back 😔💔
Why? What happened❓
Because our home no longer exists… 🏚️ It was destroyed and turned into rubble, piles of sand, and broken memories 🥀🪨
Today, we are not asking for the impossible 🙏
We only want to live in safety 🕊️, to sleep without fear 🌙, and to bring back the smiles 😊 that my family lost because of war and suffering 💔😭
Our little baby “Nouna” 👶🏻🍼 is only 6 months old. She needs milk 🥛, diapers, and clothes 👕 My heart breaks every day because I cannot provide her with the most basic things every child deserves 😢💔 I want to feed her 🍲, dress her 👗, and let her feel warmth and safety like other children 🤍🧸
And “Naboula” 🍫👧 dreams of nothing more than a small piece of chocolate 🍬 Every day I promise her that I will bring her one 🥺, but I cannot… and it hurts me deeply to see disappointment in her little eyes 😭💔
Please… lend us a helping hand 🤲🙏
Help us survive 🌿, help us find safety again 🕊️, and help us bring even a small smile 😊 back to children who have suffered far too much for their young age 💔👶🏻
Any support 🤍, donation 💵, or even sharing our story 📢 could make a huge difference in our lives 🌎✨
My name is Maram, I am 25 years old from Gaza. I dreamed of a peaceful life, spending my life with my husband and my three children... but the war turned this dream into an impossible one 💔😭. We lived through this genocide with all its painful details and we are still suffering from it😭. We were so happy when the ceasefire was announced, and we returned to our homes in northern Gaza after being displaced for a year and a half in a tent in the south of the Gaza Strip. After repairing a small room in our destroyed house, we began to live there and start over. Unfortunately, the war came back, and it was even stronger than before 💔. Now, we have no shelter or source of income. We have used up all our savings during the war. I know I created my campaign very late, but that's because I have no other means to help my family 🙏. I am completely confident and hopeful that someone here will help us as much as they can and save my family in these tough circumstances 😔.
I know how painful and frustrating it is to start over from scratch, but I hope to get any amount for my family 🥺🙏.
My name is Maram, a Palestinian woman from Gaza. I am 26 years old and a mother of three children: Malik (8 years old), Ibrahim (6 years old
So, please, donate to my campaign, even if it's a small amount—it will have a big impact on us 🥺. May God bless you, my friend 🥰❤️.
My name is Maram, I am 25 years old from Gaza. I dreamed of a peaceful life, spending my life with my husband and my three children... but the war turned this dream into an impossible one 💔😭. We lived through this genocide with all its painful details and we are still suffering from it😭. We were so happy when the ceasefire was announced, and we returned to our homes in northern Gaza after being displaced for a year and a half in a tent in the south of the Gaza Strip. After repairing a small room in our destroyed house, we began to live there and start over. Unfortunately, the war came back, and it was even stronger than before 💔. Now, we have no shelter or source of income. We have used up all our savings during the war. I know I created my campaign very late, but that's because I have no other means to help my family 🙏. I am completely confident and hopeful that someone here will help us as much as they can and save my family in these tough circumstances 😔.
I know how painful and frustrating it is to start over from scratch, but I hope to get any amount for my family 🥺🙏.
My name is Maram, a Palestinian woman from Gaza. I am 26 years old and a mother of three children: Malik (8 years old), Ibrahim (6 years old
So, please, donate to my campaign, even if it's a small amount—it will have a big impact on us 🥺. May God bless you, my friend 🥰❤️.
@rennymayflower @generalanachorcollective @itsgirlcraft @thetwistedarchives I have a peak rsp video idea,,, it's them going camping,,, but it devolves into Oren and Durple being that one smiling friends scene with Charlie and Mip,,, The real ones know what I mean!!
