#i didn't realize i was doing it until it started throbbing and bleeding half the time

[pedroassmanpascal]

i miss my primary psychiatrist :(

[crash-bump-bring-the-whump]

Day 4 - Hiding an Injury

Hmmm this one was a toss-up, but I'm happy with this!

Oops forgot my pings! @ailesswhumptober and @whumperofworlds

TWs: burns, blood, torn skin, overworking

Mariano wasn't entirely sure that he hadn't died on the way to work that morning. He just couldn't be positive, because it felt like he'd been pulled into hell. There had been another nightmare, another case of his magic sparking during the night.

Bastian had helped him get his stomach bandaged this time so he was at least rested, but that didn't change the fact that he still had a twelve hour shift to get through. No one else could fill in to close, so he just decided to suck it up. It didn't make it more fun, though, especially since he didn't want any of the teenagers to realize he'd been injured. They had enough to worry about without him adding to it.

The kids were more than happy to do the reaching and bendingsince they got to tease him about getting old. Abby was sincerely excited to learn how to clean the ice maker, too. She happily hopped up onto the stepladder, scraping at the ice buildup like it had personally wronged her.

Really, Mariano was feeling decent until Abby went on lunch.

A small rush filed in, with impatient business people lining up to try the new seasonal drink. Jason had thought that a gingerbread mocha would be popular as winter started to roll in, and he'd proved right. People were seeing the little sign they'd made and deciding to give it a shot--and others were hearing the pleasantly surprised reactions when the people ahead of them tried it.

Mariano had already gone through the first gingerbread crumb container and the backup crumb container. He felt a weight settle into his stomach as he scooped up the last bits inside for the latest mocha. "I'll be right back," He said apologetically as the next person stepped up and ordered the umpteenth gingerbread mocha of the hour. "Just getting more from the back."

His side throbbed as he walked to the storeroom and reached up above his head. Mariano swallowed down a whine as a chill shot through his gut. Abby was right there at the tiny table with only one earbud in. She needed to finish taking her break in peace.

"Need any help, gramps?" She called casually, seeming to realize what he was doing. "Don't throw out your back."

He laughed, managing to keep his voice from sounding too strained as the bandages rubbed against the raw skin of his burn. "No, no, you're on break. I just need more gingerbread." The crumb was almost in reach as he started inching the package forward with his fingertips. He needed to have another talk with them about not putting heavy things up so high.

"Good god, they're like sharks for that stuff." She snorted. He didn't hear her getting up. "Weird holiday sharks. They don't want blood, they want cinnamon and ginger."

"Maybe we need to tell Jason to have worse ideas in pre-calculus--" Mariano's flat joke was cut off by two things happening at once. He felt warmth start to drip down his stomach, blooming into the bandage as the burn tore open, and he felt his hold on the box slip.

He cursed as the box's weight dropped onto his face and sent the world exploding into stars and the smell of blood. He staggered as the thunk of the box hitting the floor filled the tiny area and made Abby yelp in surprise.

As Mariano brought his hand up to cup his nose, he felt his shoulder hit the wall. Abby's shoes squeaked around the corner, and he heard her gasp. "Oh--shit." She hurried closer. "Oh that's--that's a lot of blood."

Mariano blinked hard, shaking his head. "It's--it's alright. It's okay. Noses bleed a lot." He sounded like he had the worst cold of his life.

"No--Mariano, your stomach is like, gushing blood." The tremble in Abby's voice made him look down. As she'd said, blood was spreading along the lower half of his sweater, right over where he'd burned himself the night before.

"...Ah." He said, settling into a familiar calm. "Abby, I'm sorry. Could you get the first aid kit from the bathroom and bring it to the office? I can handle this, it looks much worse than it is."

"What's going on?" She demanded, not moving just yet. She was getting louder, and sounding more nervous. "What's happening? Do I need to call emergency services?"

"I have a burn on my stomach, and I think I just stretched the skin too far." Mariano said, meeting her eye and keeping his voice level. "It's not an emergency. I've dealt with this before. Take a deep breath."

Abby nodded, taking a deep breath in and holding it. She let it go after a few seconds, seeming calmer when Mariano nodded again, encouragingly at her. "Okay. First aid kit, office, then I'll go finish up the rush." She darted towards the door before he could stop her. "And you can't tell me no! I'll just finish my break later!"

Mariano couldn't help feeling warm about her being so insistent. He took a seat in the peeling computer chair, promised Abby that she could have whatever pastry she wanted in exchange for the first aid kit when she came back with it, and took a deep breath. Abby had the customers handled, and as he peeled his bloody sweater from his stomach, he knew he had himself handled.

[d6rkroom]

— ‘𝗻𝗼𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀 𝗶𝘁 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗼.’

finn mcnamara x top!male reader. (wc; 1.7k)

#a/n: this took way longer than it should've, my apologies fer’ that! BUT THANK YOU ELIAN FOR GIVIN’ ME THE GENERAL IDEA FOR THIS, I HAD A TON OF FUN WRITIN’ IT! YER’ BIG BRAIN AS HELL!

warnings. forced breeding, dubcon, mentions of cheating, possessive behavior, degrading k., dumbification, brat taming, sex infront of a mirror, manhandling, belly bulge, cum inflation, implied mpreg.

it was expected, it was only a matter of time before his olden behavior caved in on him and he relapsed right back into those sickly habits from nothing more than a year prior.

finn mcnamara was a slut. a dirty, good for nothing cheater. you knew his loyalty was short lived— his drive for exploration and choas secured that lucid notion in your brain ever since the two of you had started your dating journey.

how naive were you to untrust your heart with him, so utterly idiotic.

there you were, fingers curled around the doorknob as you lay in wait for your boyfriend to take note of the new presence clouding the room. your face was sheathed in coats of not shock, nor distaste— just inflicted with an expressionless disappointment. whatever bit of rage that fogged your mind swiftly dissolved along with his sexual mate that accompanied your spot on the bed.

nonchalant as ever, he sent a sloppy smile your direction; probably as a result of whatever poor pounding he just received from the rather small looking guy who was just in your room. pathetic, he couldn't even wait a few hours for your attention so he tossed aside his pride and let his greedy hole get creamed by someone at least half your size.

“satisfied with yourself, whore?” a satirical snear contorted your lips. one he knew a little to well, one he could tell apart from your usual one. the one you would often flicker as the two of you conversed. he knew you loved him, as did he; yet, the outcome of pushing your buttons was one he couldn't shake the craving for.

“hah, as satisfied as ever— sweetheart.” his first mistake was underestimating your tolerance for his bullshit. the second was letting that sour chuckle rip past his throat.

he was already exposed, clothes abandoned along side his dignity. letting such a inexperienced and second option hook-up ruin his beautifully stretched hole was baffling to you. was he really that desperate to have his ass filled and feel full for the remainder of the evening? you already knew the answer to your own inquiry.

he sputtered out a few words that glazed past your ears and straight out the back of your head. you had no care to hear any other soft attempts to convey how what he committed was mistake or how his body was now yours for the night. you had tunnel-vision set on his spend, plump ass that was already wiggling in the air— contrast from his cheek, which was pressed into the matress.

you give a harsh smack on the milky flesh, making finn’s lower half jolt in retaliation; halting his train of thought and stopping his tongue mid monologue. his hands instinctively sink into the pillow beneath his neck. you shift your weight, prying his thighs apart and spreading his cheeks wide open; the perfect view. the head of your cock, flushed red and throbbing gives a few pokes at his pulsating rim which is already venting around nothing.

you give his hole a few, firm slaps from the length of your shaft. beckoning that bratty inclination from out from beneath him— you wanted to hear those lips bark out your name. persuading you to rock in and out of his useless body.

“you want that? my cock to just slip right inside you without need for an apology? without regard for what i just caught you doing in, our bed?”

you almost give in, but you're smarter than to let finn get what he so desperately wants, that easily. rubbing your palm into his hips, small pats connecting with the side of his abdomen insinuate he fetches the mirror from the corner of the bedroom. no words were required in the exchange, he knew his place— plain and simple. and he sure as hell knew what you silently commanded he do.

an exasperated groan grumbles from the depths of his chest, his tongue clicked in annoyance at the sudden expectation for him to remove himself from his lewd position. so stupid, he throws away your years of love to get fucked by some stranger and then complains as you whisk him away from the sheets. he had driven you to your witt's end.

“excuse you, cunt? did i just hear you protest, after cheating in my bed, in my house? don't forget who owns you.”

his blood ran cold and the hairs on the back of his neck sprung to life with an accompanying chill that relished up his spine. his shoulders visibly cringed at your tone as he wasted no time flipping over and hoisting the mirror slowly to the foot of the bed. with the reflective piece of glass now fitted nicely as it leaned against the bedframe— finn crawled atop the messy array of sheets.

“y/n look.. m’sorry don't-” he wasn't allowed to finish, at least not anymore he wasn't. you weren't going to let him disrespect your authority under your roof any longer.

without thinking your hand reaches to unbuckle your belt, fingers toying with the zipper and button respectively. tugging your pants and boxers down without caution— you carded a few free fingers into his messy, mop of hair. digging into and only making it a much more noticable mess than before as you yanked his face to meet yours.

you felt a guley glob of spit collect under your tongue, shooting the wad right between his eyes; saliva leaking down the bridge of his nose and bleeding onto his upperlip. you knew how he adorded being tossed around like trash, better yet, treated as such. he was getting off to this, his eyes pooling wide with lust everytime a vulgar insult leaped from behind your teeth.

he tries not to let his words slur as you play with his still, very tender asshole. breath hitching every step of the way as you spin him to face the direction of the mirror. his hole was still lubed and wet from his previous visitor, giving you very easy access with little push or resistance.

his eyes roll back, you keep your gaze attentive on his decoy on the other side of the glass. your fat cock streaching him out has his lips parting to release a squeal of appreciation, a lavish burn following close suit as you sink deeper inside of him. he's not regretting his choice to unturn his devotion towards you; not yet at least.

“getting off to this slut? look at yourself, i haven't even started to really fuck you yet. pathetic.”

finn’s eyes are trained on his reflection, the look of tragedy curling over his spit-slicked lips. he could feel how deep you were, reaching spots he didn't even know were there. he can also make out the veins on your cock dragging along his walls and you're right; he is getting off to this. it felt so good— he felt so good— it all was good.

you rut into his ass like a feral animal, grunting cocktailed with sour remarks to keep the tension rising. instinctively he clings onto the fabric beneath him for dear life, knuckles fading from bright red to a pale white. through the fog of pleasure clogging his mind, he can only keen out an audible ‘yes’ to all of the questions and words that jumbled from your mouth.

with your eyes fixated on the way his skin ripples and jiggles against your hips, the fat riding up onto yer’ waist with the brutal pace you keep. he attempts to protest with how close he feels himself getting, only to be cut off by one hard slam after another— cock drilling into his tight little hole with intentions to impregnate him.

concepts of his usualy flat tummy growing round and bloated as you fucked it full of your little swimmers now press into your mind. each seed racing to see which will be the one to knock up your boyfriend; rendering him yours forever. your vigor prevails, motivated by the sole image of your slut giving birth to one, maybe two of your genetic creations. your offspring.

finn wonders if the cheating scandal really has your stamina skyrocketing, that is until through the intoxication of your speed— he realizes. fuck, you don't have a condom. he can't get pregnant, as much as he'd want to settle down with you he has way to many jobs that would release him from employment if they found out he had a baby in his belly. you wouldn't do that to him, would you? you knew how near and dear traveling from place to place, job to job was to him. was this punishment?

“sweeti- ah! y/n c-condom!”

even with his tongue tripping over ever other word, you could decipher the clutter of gibberish all too well. he had figured out your plan to breed his tiny body.

“oh? that silly thing? i gotta make you my wife, remember? just a stupid little whore who can only work from home. nobody wants to fuck a pregnant bitch. maybe that'll teach you to keep it in your pants.”

“n-no— ah-! fuck..”

your words sent tingles over his scalp, squelching noises resonate through the air mingled with your bitter laughter. drool starts to seep from the corners of his mouth and tears begin to well up in his eyes as he watches his mirror double get impailed by the outline of your cock. he knows soon that a small child will fill the roll of your shaft, he can't do anything but try to resist as the idea of your warm, stick love flooding his womb only grows on him.

at this point, all finn is doing is whimpering on your cock, degrading making the pressure behind his thighs hotter and his ass tighter. that familiar knot twisting in his lower stomach begging to snap as you roll into his prostate with a hunger glistening in your eyes. you flip finn on his back and catch his bottom, wet lip between your teeth and tug with the push of your hips. eye contact is never broken as your hot load spurts long and sticky ropes through his ass and into his belly. so full, he's so positively full as he feels your genes enter his boy womb— effectively impregnating and painting his gummy walls with white fluid.

soon a bunch of mini you’s will roam the empty spaces in your home and you'll start the perfect family together. you had planned to make him your bitch for quite some time, but the cheating only sped up the inevitable. finn sobbed into the crook of your neck; protruding tummy poking at your abdomen as he loosely attached to you.

the whole ordeal would be burned into his brain and yours, the mirror serving his eyes a sick reminder that he was now tasked with carrying your kid. forever.

[ketsuyuki-hibana-typed]

Excuse me what.

Maeda, you fucking owe me Ohagi for this pervert writing. This really looks like some ecchi shits going on. But we all know that Sanemi is also drunk on that respect women juice.

As you can see or know, there are no bras used by women in Taishou Era unless those who live in big city like Tokyo (after Western influences). They used some sort of bandages to cover their breast.

You know what's coming.

Shinazugawa Sanemi x Pillar! s/o (NSFWish Warning: Explicit words)

After some incident, you are injured and Sanemi brought you to small village for temporary treatments. He couldn't reach out Kakushi because your crows and Sanemi's are both injured.

Like always, when you woke up, Sanemi will scold you with loud voice and the person who treat you, were too afraid to make him calm down.

"Sanemi, lower your voice. It's not just us here."

Both of you planned to leave in the morning, considering the demons were hiding and it's great opportunity to take a breath.

"It's a new type demon which attacked you yesterday. We had to go back to headquarters as fast as we can and report this to Oyakata-sama."

"You could leave me, I'll catch up."

"No. I won't. Beside, you are the one who recklessly encountered that demon. You should be the one who report it to Oyakata-sama."

Sanemi, the thick bull-headed, will never say that he didn't want to leave because the male villagers were eyeing on you.

When you got better, you asked about your swords and uniform.

Your sword was fine but your uniform is another story. It torn up and was really in havoc. You saw it with your own eyes. With all of these shreds on your uniform and the pants, it's miracle you still alive until now. You couldn't distinguish between mere fabrics or Demon Slayer Uniform.

Which is really bad.

This village was poor. You wanted to buy their clothes, and that's the problem. The women here only have one or two kimono at the moment. But luckily, there was one girl who let you buy her kimono. It's pink and not really in good shape but at least you could wear it. Of course, you willingly to pay her.

"What you are talking about? Buying their kimono? How did you defend yourself from the demons' scratches?" Sanemi scoffed. He pulled something from his bag. "I got one spare."

"You do? Is it yours?"

"No, Maeda gave me. I don't know why but that woman just shoved this too me. 'In emergency case for (y/n)', she said."

"But still, I need kimono to disguise myself. We are going to across the town. My haori was ripped too."

The morning comes, and you get ready for your trip back to headquarters. You started with your clothings. You wrapped around the bandages, covering your breast.

Sansmi already gave you the uniform, so you just grabbed it out from the table, and started to wear it.

"...it's not pants? This is a skirt?" You frowned. "Whatever."

Sanemi was waiting outside the room, crossing his arms while sitting on the engawa.

"Hey, are you done?!" He shouted to you, impatient.

"Wait a minute."

You maybe sounded calm but you literally sweating over the uniform you wear.

The skirt was short. It's not even reaching under knees, and only covered half of your thighs. But more importantly,

"Hmmnngghhh!!!"

You tried your best to button your upper front uniform. You held your breath, deflated your chest. You pulled the button, and reached the hole on the other side.

But you make it worst. The button snapped from its place and fell down onto the floor. Your peevish head became angry and tried with another buttons.

Until there are no buttons left. It all fell down and you just stared at them in defeat.

For fuck sake, (y/n), you're so fucking dumb

"IT'S USELESS!!" You stood with your knees and palm, feeling super tired from just an attempt to button your front. How should I cover my chest when the battle start?! Maeda you siiiiiick!! If you really wanted to help me, then at least make the bigger size. I'm not Sanemi or Mitsuri!!

"Hey, what are you complaining about?! If you didn't out in 1 minute, I'll leave you!"

"Wa- Wait! Aaah..." There are no time left to fix the buttons, so you just let it be showing your bandaged cleavage and wear your kimono as double.

It's actually worst than Mitsuri. Mitsuri's still buttoned her highest and lowest part of the uniform. But you? All of the buttons didn't compromise to your luck today. It showed more skins than you thought.

Maeda, curse you.

You opened the door. Sanemi was so mad the irk mark on his forehead appeared.

"I- I'm sorry. Hahaha...." You felt so uncomfortable under your kimono, but you did your best to hid it.

"Tsk. Nevermind. Come on, we're losing time."

You leave the village along with Sanemi. Your crows resting on your shoulder. You patted its little head.

Of course, it didn't always go well like you predicted.

When night comes, the same type of that demon attacking both of you again. You still put your kimono on. It limited your movements.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! WHY DID YOU KEEP YOUR KIMONO?!" Sanemi shouted towards you, still busy dodging the attacks.

'I will just being a burden if-'

You gripped your sword, panicking. Should I? Should I put out my kimono?

"AAAHHHH SCREW IT!!" You put off your kimono, throwing it out to nowhere.

He stopped for a moment, mouth opened.

The demon slapped him out, make him flew away and hit the tree.

"Wha- WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR UNIFORM?!" He screamed.

"Huh?!!! I don't know, it didn't fit to me!!"

You finally revealed your front-opened button bandaged cleavage, and your short skirt. You kept your distance while shouting 'Quick, it will attack again!' to Sanemi.

"WHAT THE FUCK?! THE FRONT BUTTON?!" He propped his feet on the ground.

"I broke them all!!" You spinned around, almost got clawed but it managed to reach your bandage.

It ripped out.

Ah shit, here we go again.

"I HATE THIS AAHHHH!!!" You screamed in embarrassment, starting to think that this demon is a pervert.

Sanemi tried to not too distracted by your chest, attacking from the other direction. But he can't, he simply can't.

"THE ENEMY IS IN FRONT OF YOU SANEMI, NOT ON MY CHEST!"

"SHIT, I KNOW!"

You crunched your knees to the ground, making brake motion so your body wasn't bounce back.

But that's not the only who visibly bouncing right now.

"Sanemi, we should destroy the middle core first." You panted. He couldn't focus, he couldn't focus at all while looking at your bare breast, making up down motion. "Hey, Sanemi!!"

"FUCK!" He jumped first. "Cover your chest!"

"Wait, it doesn't have to do with my chest?!"

He didn't know what to do anymore, it was like BOOM. His mind couldn't be clear, he can't concentrate on his next move.

The demon was easily swinging its claw and spinning its hand around. It resulted with Sanemi injured on his forehead while you got crossed wounds on your chest.

"(y/n)!!!"

"Don't mind me!!" You landed on the tree, panted for a while before jumped again towards that demon.

"Breath of Wind, second form!"

"Third form!" It finally worked out, it's finally annihilated.

You huffed, gasped for more air. You put your hand on your chest, fresh blood from the cuts was flowing out.

"It seems that the injury wasn't that deep." Sanemi approached you. He wiped the red liquid on his temple carelessly. "Why don't you say that the uniform didn't fit for you?"

"We're in hurry, remember?"

"So, you walked around the town... With that."

"Look, I don't want this, but I have no choice, okay? Besides- Ow."

The sharp pain came again, you held your wounded chest.

"Nevermind that, come here. I'll stop the bleeding."

He found an abandoned post in that forest. Ordering you to sit down, he started to prepare the emergency treatment.

It's not just a mere flush, his face was burning when he sutured your breasts. Focus, Sanemi, you're the one who offering her help, are you?

"What are you blushing at? We've done 'that' for many-"

"Shut up! It's different!"

Well, it's actually embarrassing though, you bite your lips, averting your eyes to somewhere else.

"Nnh..."

"Hey, don't let out weird sound."

"It hurts..."

"Hold it." He tried, tried so hard to keep focusing on your wounds. His heart throbbed, it was like asking him to let it out from his ribcage.

He had to admit that you looked enthralling in this shape, torn uniform, some scars on your skins that never make him bothered, you shivering under his gentle touch while trying to maintain your preposition.

It's all perfect that he had to hush his bulge under his pants to calm down.

"Done." He stood up. You opened your eyes, letting out relieved breathe. "Could you walk? Or should we stay here for awhile? If it's still hurt, I could bring you to Butterfly Estate."

"No, you're injured too. Let's rest here together."

It's your turn to take care of his wounds. He sat down on the wooden board. Your knees propped you up, making creak sound on that board. You kneeled in front of him, wiping the blood out of his temple. You disentangled the bandage on your hand, starting to wrapped his injuries on the head.

Didn't realize that Sanemi kept staring on your chest, really close to his face. Your breast was jiggling lightly, following your movements while busy bandaging him.

Hold it, hold it, Sanemi. Not now.

His half-lidded eyes were hazy. Unconsciously, he moved his head towards, kissing your wounded chest.

You jolted a bit and looked down, the sting pain and his soft lips were mixed on your skin, making tingling sensation.

"Sa- Sanemi? Ow..."

"You're lucky that it's not poisoned." He hugged your under breast, still kissing your tender skin lightly.

"I- I guess." You made ribbon shape like on his head, pushed him slowly with your hands on his shoulder. "I- I think we should inform the Kakushi, about... The uniform and maybe better treatments. My crow has healed and could fly again."

"Right." You send message thorough your crow and after some flapping test, your crow flew away from your place.

Sanemi put his haori and uniform off, he's only wearing the white shirt now.

"Get some rest." You nodded, laying down and sleep sideways. He covered your with his uniform and your lower part with his haori. "I'll guard this area."

"With this thin clothes, you'll get cold." You pulled his shirt, shyly. "Would you mind sharing?"

"What sharing?"

You guided his hand, made him sleeping beside you. You lifted his uniform and covering both of you.

"Now, this is fair." You hide under his chin, putting your face in front of his chest. "We could share warmth together."

"I didn't mean to sleep. Who will prot- "

"Morning will come soon anyway. Just 1 hour rest."

"Argh, fine!" He pushed your back head, bringing him closer to his chest. He put his chin under your head, hiding his red flush because he could feel your breast against his bare chest.

Both of you eventually fell asleep while hugging each otherz with legs slipped into each other.

"Hey, wake up." After some time, he slowly shook your body. You rubbed your eyes and propped your weight with your elbow. "Here's the new change."

"Hm? Where did you get this?"

"Maeda came here."

"She did? Where is-"

"Yeah. Don't worry about her. Now, change. Quick."

"O-Okay." You started to put off your rotten uniform in front of him.

"You even didn't mind to say 'Turned around.' to me." He said that but still not averted his eyes off from your slow movements.

"Why? You always saw me naked after all."

"Ugh, just change."

No matter how many times he looked at it, that gorgeous body of yours will be always be his weakness.

Omake:

"Guys, did you see Maeda?"

"No."

"Nope."

"I wonder where is- wait, who is that floating on the river."

[bittermarrow]

Break the Chain // (Thomas Hewitt x Reader)

A/n: Why do I write angst? It is so painfullll, yet so good and I’m indecisive and like torturing myself. Also, this takes place after Thomas gets his arm chopped off and chases after Erin.

Warnings: Graphic Gore/Blood, Angst, lots of feelings.

Words: 2200+

.   .   .

Your entire body burns with a distinct kind of pain, your throat raw and pumping large gulps of air through your lungs despite the discomfort that doing so inflicts. You can feel warm gushes of blood dripping down your chest from the fresh gash streaking across your sternum. Your nose feels clogged yet somehow still oozing a thin stream of crimson, your cracked and peeling split bottom lip is covered in the blood leaking from your nose.

Your chest aches and stings with boiling hot shots of irregular pain, the more you move the stronger your agony becomes. But still, you keep moving, the heavy downpour of a rare nightly rain leaves your clothes and hair soaked. You are jogging down the muddy road, your flimsy sandals slipping and squealing as the wet bottoms of your heel slide over the sole. You can feel the start blades of damp grass sticking to your feet and the dirty splashes of murky puddles against your ankles.

Your chunky dog collar chafes against your neck and the heavy, snapped chain jingles and sways with your movements. You can barely see much with how dark it is, but the length of the road acts as your guide. You’re wheezing so hard it sounds like you'll collapse any minute, but you know better. You weren't going to rest until you found him.

You were feeling a lot of things that confused you right now. You were angry, no, fuming that Thomas had run off after that girl, Erin, risking his health to catch her, to protect his family. You felt an unsettling amount of relief being able to finally run again, without being chained down like a dog. You felt guilty that you had run, without even telling the others that you were going after Thomas, leaving them to probably think you’d tried to escape. But most of all, you were terrified beyond belief.

All that blood, the sight of the dismembered arm of your most trusted person and all the vermillion smears over the lockers sending you into a panic. You were scared for Thomas’s sake, you knew he wouldn't stop his chase until he’s either caught the woman who hurt his family or killed himself trying. His family’s safety meant way too much to him for him to give up, but you couldn't just let him die out there. There was a chance that he was already… no, no he’s alive! He has to be alive, he’s stronger than that, you have to remind yourself, but it does little to comfort you.

You almost stop breathing and trip over your own feet when you hear the faint sound of a purring motor, you run even faster when you recognize it to be a chainsaw. You look further down the road but it's hard to see anything. You can feel your knees about ready to give out, but you ignore the burning pain. You almost sob in relief when you spot Thomas a few meters down. You slid to a stop and drop to your hands and knees to crawl over to his shaking form.

You finally reach him and use what's left of your strength to turn him over, so he isn't lying face down. You can't tell if Thomas is unconscious or just out of it, and when you can't force out his name through your chattering teeth you drop yourself against him. You press your cheek to his chest and listen for a heartbeat, your other hand scrambles of one of his— his only hand. And your fingers fumble over his wrist to search for a pulse.

He’s still breathing, but his pulse feels very irregular. Like he’s fighting for his life, literally. Either that or he’s fading in and out of consciousness, you can only hope it’s the latter. You startle just a bit when you feel his soaking wet arm drop around your back. It almost feels like it’s gone dead weight. You lift your head up from his chest and look up to his face, looking for any signs of consciousness or awareness.

You can just slightly make out the fluttering of his eyelids through the shadows of his mask and the darkness of night and rain. He suddenly looks you dead in the eyes, but only for a moment before he’s squeezing them shut. You can practically sense your own perturbation rising over the edge of the teacup holding in all of your emotions, ready to spill.

You can feel Thomas’s arm squeezing around you, and his fingers are twisting in the back of your heavy shirt. You don’t realize that his intent was to somehow shield you from the rain, and if he had gathered up enough strength to do it, you wouldn’t have been able to keep from sobbing. Thomas would do anything to keep you safe, even from rain that could potentially make you sick, even as he’s bleeding out on the road. In a way it’s almost a good thing he started to flicker in and out of alertness again.

You take in a deep breath and look over to what's left of his right arm, it’s but chopped off straight through the bone. You scramble around for something to wrap around his wound before he bleeds out, he’s already lost so much. You yank the damp sweatshirt off of your waist and pushed his good arm off of you.

You moved to his other side and hovered a trembling hand over the marred display of gore that was left of Thomas’s arm, some of the skin only hanging by mere strings on the exposed, clipped bone. Your fingertips hesitated when you lowered your hand to the stub of meaty tore-up flesh, and then gently lifted the damaged limb into your lap, trying your very best not to press too hard on it. You wrung out your soaking wet sweatshirt the best you could before hastily wrapping up his arm in it. The moment you applied pressure and began tying the sleeves together as a makeshift bandage Thomas started thrashing.

The sudden shot of pain must have shaken him back into consciousness, and you hold his arm down to the best of your ability, trying desperately to tie the damn knot so you could stop causing him so much agony. Once you had it tight enough to slow the bleeding, you let him jerk his arm away and hiss and moan to himself. He looked completely out of it. Like he was in too much crippling pain to even register that you existed. That wasn’t a good sign. You’d read about how the more blood the human body loses, the more delusional and susceptible to extreme side effects they become.

You are reminded of the roaring chainsaw a good ten feet away from where you kneel beside your lover, half of the saw is in a deep, murky puddle of muck drowning the motorized sound to be distorted into an unpleasant gurgling. You were about to lift yourself up from the street and go to switch it off, but in that same moment, Thomas starts shifting around and making louder, more clear whines. His wrapped arm is trembling on the slick dirt road like it was full of tremoring nerves that jerked and throbbed.

You crawl over so you are behind him and gingerly raise his heavy head up and place it over your lap, noting the streaks of blood beneath his skull. He must’ve hit his head pretty hard on the way down. You start to panic all of a sudden, all of your emotions melding into one big ball of dread and terror as you began to pant. Your heart is pounding in your chest almost painfully vigorously. This was not the time to have an anxiety attack! You supposed this whole situation could be described as your biggest fear, but the more you panic the harder it will be to keep a level head and fix all of this. You needed to help Thomas first, he came first.

You gulp down those feelings like you had done so many times before, putting them on hold for a more important call. You shakily attempt to speak to him, to see if you could get any other verbal responses. You don’t even try to even out the tremors in your throat.

“Thomas, Baby, can you hear me? Please, I can’t—” You broke off into a choked sob, your hot tears mixing with the chilly, fat drops of rain. You cradled his head in your hands and hunched over him just slightly before turning to one side as your emotional turmoil started to leak through the cracks. “To-Tommy? Tommy, please. I’m so scared, I-I’m so sorry, please stay with me. I can’t— not now. Ch-Charlie’s comin’ Don’t worry… don’t worry.”

It wasn’t quite clear who you were truly trying to comfort. You didn't even know if Hoyt was coming, you only hoped that he was. You once again curse yourself for not saying something before you left. You knew you couldn't drag Thomas back to the house by yourself, you didn't know if he could walk if he would make it, you didn't even know if you’d make it! You noticed Thomas was shaking, oh what more could go wrong!? If the blood loss doesn't kill him first, hypothermia will!

You tried to keep Thomas calm when he started to squirm, most likely from the searing pain he was experiencing. You hushed and cooed at him, cradling his head close to your stomach. You bent forward to stop him from touching his other arm, begging him to stay still for just a bit longer. You felt almost guilty for pleading with him to stay awake, but you knew you had to at least try to keep him conscious as long as possible.

The persistent deluge didn't relent in the slightest as five, six, and seven minutes passed by. Finally, you saw headlights approaching, the distinct pure of a truck growing closer and closer. You almost cried out in relief when you recognized whose truck it was, once it was close enough you wave to it to bring the driver’s attention to yourself.

It slowed to and pulled over, without a doubt, Hoyt and Luda Mae hopped out of the truck and rushed over to you. They both looked almost shocked to see you and only hesitated for a moment before they were fussing over Thomas. Luda was already yelling, starting to cry upon seeing her special boy in such a state.

“My boy! What have they done to my boy?!” You were quickly shoved away from Thomas, and as much as you loathed being apart from him and were on the verge of a severe emotional breakdown, you gave Luda some space to grieve and shout over her son. Charlie was a bit of a mess, you'd never seen the man so worried it, and yet so lost. Charlie always knew what to do, but right now… he looked like even he didn’t know how to fix this.

Fortunately, the posing sheriff was quick to get his head back in the right place and got his gears turning.

“C’mon, Mama, help me get ‘em in the truck!” Charlie shouted over the loud downpour, finally taking charge of the situation like he always did. You quickly rushed to help them maneuver a dazed Thomas into the backseat, the hulking man is trying his very best to stumble and walk with the aid of his family, and once he is in the back everyone else is jumping into the vehicle too.

You slide into the backseat with your injured giant, letting him lie his head in your lap and whispering calming things to him as Charlie sped way over the limit back to the Hewitt residence. There was no way they could take him to a hospital with their soon-to-be criminal record, and there was no telling if he’d make the entire long ride there anyway. So he’d have to be taken care of here, you know a bit about first aid from a bunch of medical classes you took way back in high school when you had planned to be a nurse. But you weren’t a surgeon, not even a nurse.

You just hoped to whatever god, ancestor, or force that existed that you could save him. You loved him too much to lose him now.

.   .   .

“So,” You heard Hoyt begin after walking out of the room Thomas was just stabilized and hopefully saved in, you hadn’t been allowed in. The family had assured you that your presence would do more harm than good. You hesitantly agreed.

“What?” You asked, the pure exhaustion and strain in your voice made you sound as worn out as you felt.

“What made ya stay? Ya ran off like you was takin’ your chance to run, why’d you bother with the boy?” The Sheriff questioned, not even sounding snarky or demanding, a genuine inquiry that you weren’t expecting from him. And so, you answered with nothing but truth soaking into every word, perhaps it even shocked you more than it did him.

“Because I love him more than that.” And you did, more than the life void of chains and gore that you could have escaped to. It would mean nothing without him.

Your collar and broken chain were never replaced.