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dolcettamagica · 7 months

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𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 ch.3

rick x reader, prime rick x reader

𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴: 𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘩𝘰𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘥, 𝘥𝘳𝘺 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘱𝘶𝘴𝘴𝘺𝘫𝘰𝘣, 𝘯𝘰 𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬, 𝘥𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘥𝘶𝘣𝘤𝘰𝘯, 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 & 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴: 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘥𝘯𝘪, 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘸𝘤: 3.0𝘬

The room swayed as you navigated the blurred edges of reality. Laughter echoed in disjointed fragments, and your senses danced in a kaleidoscope of emotions. The world, usually anchored in coherence, now floated in a hazy sea of intoxication. Your laughter bubbled up uncontrollably, a symphony of uninhibited joy. Yet, beneath the surface, a subtle vulnerability lingered, as if the alcohol had unraveled the tightly wound threads of your composure. There was a fleeting sense of detachment, a reminder that the intoxicating elixir could distort both the present and your perception of self.

“D-didn’t I tell you-you…? This shit is fu-fucking good”, Rick took another sip of the glittery green substance. You already forgot what it was called and from where it was – honestly, you didn’t even care. One glass after another has been poured down your throat, five different drinks from five different planets. You were anything but sober just like Rick. Both of you sat crisscrossed on the bed in front of each other. Why did you hate him again? Who gives a shit.

“You’re right, yeah, you’re right”, you giggled as you leaned forward, your hands grabbing into the soft white mattress. Loose strands of hair were falling onto your face as you look up at Rick. Even sitting down, he was more than a head taller than you. “Feels like…hm…feels like I’m on some other fucking planet.”

By your switch of position Rick had a wonderful view before him. Your top was revealing and tight, pressing your tits together, your soft skin glistening in the dim light. His eyes wandered done to your hips and legs. Fucking hell, what a fine piece of ass. Maybe it was the alcohol talking or maybe he was just fucking horny. Lust and desire filled his senses, but Rick didn’t want to do anything…yet. “I am the smartest man alive after a-all. You gotta trust-trust me on this sh-shit, y/n. And you haven’t even tried space weed, y/n, it’s going to bl-blow your fucking mind.” Should be blowing me instead. He watched as you started cackling once again, he didn’t know who was more wasted – you or him.

“Mhm”, you cooed, “Rick Sanchez is the smartest man alive. Be my bartender instead of a scientist, Rick.”

Slowly he laid his hand on yours as he got closer. His touch made your skin burn, goosebumps forming on your neck. He still doesn’t give a fuck about personal space. Quickly you pulled your hand away, a strange feeling clouding your senses and creeping down your body. “I-I could be something completely dif-different than your bartender, little one.” How could his voice sound teasing and seductive simultaneously? Why did his touch feel so familiar every time?

In all honesty, you wouldn’t mind giving yourself to him right now. Both of you were more than just drunk and a little sex would certainly help you destress after this hard, nerve-wrecking day. Something in the back of your head though begged you not to do it. You also had some doubts – What if you’re actually a virgin? What if this is a test? What if it’s a trap and you’ll be kicked out afterwards? Rick would be egoistic enough to do something like that. So, you chose to simply ignore this last comment.

“Tell me more about space-weed, pretty please?”, big doe eyes met his gaze.

Beg for it more. “Never seem to g-get enough, huh?”, swiftly he took a baggie out of his lab coat. Your eyes widened. the containment possessed vibrant colors, exotic patterns, and unique properties that contribute to its intergalactic allure. Grinning he opened the baggy and let the weed fall into his hand. “Wh-what type of girl are you? Bong? Joint? C-can’t bake some br-brownies for you now, princess.”

“Bong sounds like a vibe”, it didn’t take long for you to catch your composure. Rick also seemed to just ignore what happened a fee seconds ago.

Carefully packing the bowl with space-weed, Rick adjusted the water level in the bong. With a flick, he sparked the lighter, bringing the flame to the bowl's edge. Inhaling deeply, he brings the bong to his lips, igniting the substance and creating a milky swirl of smoke. As Ruck pulled, his eyes focused on you. Right after the bong left his lips and was placed on the bed, Rick grabbed you by your neck and forced you closer to him. His lips were almost touching yours. “Wait, what, Rick?!” Rick blew smoke into your mouth, coating your mouth with a sweet yet earth taste.

“It’s c-called shot gunning, baby”, his hand, which was previously grabbing your neck, was now tucking your hair behind your ear, “Wish you could see your slutty expression right n-now, y/n.”

Every cell in your body was yearning for more, your brain on the other hand ��Stop fucking around, old man.” It wasn’t teasingly, you were stone cold and serious.

All of a sudden Rick seized you, his grip unyielding as he forcefully pinned you down onto the bed. The air crackled with tension as his eyes bore into yours, filled with a raw, primal hunger. You gasped, caught off guard by the sudden ferocity of his actions, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and excitement. Rick’s touch was rough, his body pressed against yours with a commanding urgency. In that moment, you realized the depth of his desire, as Rick claimed you with an undeniable passion that left you breathless and powerless to resist. “D-Didn’t I tell you that next time you call me an ol-old man, I’ll make you scream it, dumb brat?”

Only now did you realize in what kind of position you were. One hand was gripping your throat while the other was groping your ass. He was lying between your legs and something hard – and big – was pressing against you. “Fu-fuck, look at your fucking f-face. Needy girl. Makes me want to ruin you.”

His fingers almost dug into the soft skin of your buttocks as he finally placed his lips on yours. His tongue quickly found its way into your mouth as soon as you wanted to protest his behavior. The kiss was chaotic, full of desire and lust. His tongue closed around yours again and again and he began to roll his hips against you. His hard cock rubbed against your yoga pants-covered vagina. It caused the perfect friction for your clit, you felt how wet you were getting. After what felt like an eternity his lips parted from yours.

“What are you doing, R-Rick?!” Your intention was to sound angry or at least not as excited as you actually were. Instead, your voice sounded breathy and even worse, like you loved what was happening. Ashamed of your own arousal, you bit down on your lip and hoped Rick wouldn’t notice how fucking horny you were.

"Ri-Rick? No. You must call me sir, master or Mr. Sanchez, dirty-dirty whore," he let go of your throat and ass to literally rip the white tank top off your body. In one quick motion, he pulled your breasts out of your bra. "Do y-you think I'm stupid? Senile? Have you for-forgotten that I'm the smartest man alive? I know exactly what you want, little one, even before you realized it." The whole time he was talking he didn’t stop dry humping against your pussy.

His lips enveloped one of the nipples, sucking and sucking on them while the other tit was squeezed by his hand. It was all too much for you, it was overstimulating. Your tits were extremely sensitive to Rick's tongue and hand. You moaned louder and louder, unable to form words, let alone sentences. “wai-…ah, w-wai-…plea-“

Rick's cock seemed to get even harder as your sugary moans fell on his ears. "Y-You like that, don't you? This old man makes you moan-moan like a bitch in fucking heat. You dirty little slut. Have you been provoking me all-all this time to make it end like this? Did you want to be punished, li-little one?" You could do nothing but shake your head. He was the one who had provoked and embarrassed you all this time, right?

"Are-are you really innocent o-or are you just pretending? I can see the looks you give me during our…hot mo-moments. The way your c-cheeks turn bright re-red, your heavy breathing and those eyes filled-filled with dirty fantasies. I've already noticed. I warned you…y-you didn't listen, so now you have to obey. Take your clothes off." He ordered while sitting up.

Tears filled your eyes. Was it the situation or was it the fact that Rick's fat cock was no longer pressing against your clit and sending your body into a state of ecstasy? You weren't sure of the answer yourself. Your brain and body were at odds - your pussy craved Rick while your brain begged you to leave the room. His power-hungry eyes stared at you as if he was waiting for your reaction to further assess the situation. Are you going to play along or are you going to stop? "Did you not hear me, whore? Undress, now."

"Y-yes..."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir."

Maybe it was wrong, maybe not. Maybe it was the alcohol or weed, maybe you just wanted to keep being touched by this disrespectful man. While you threw your bra and pants as well as your thong on the floor, Rick undressed as well. The two of you watched each other. Rick took in every curve of your body – you were exactly what he wanted. Rick was thin but fit at the same time and – oh God – his cock... His cock was huge.

"Do you like what you see, p-princess?" a dirty grin graced his lips. "I like the sight too. Lie-lie down again and spread your legs. I want to see your little cunt." This time he didn't have to repeat his command twice. Slowly (and somewhat reluctantly) you lay back down and spread your trembling legs, not sure if you wanted his cock inside you. Shyly, you looked up at him and your breathing hitched. Rick's hand was around the tip of his member, moving it up and down as he eyed your most intimate area.

“Fu-fucking hell, you’re so fucking wet already. Jesus. I-I didn’t even touch you for real an-and yet you’re soaking. Desperate little thing.”

Out of nowhere and without any warning, Rick grabbed you by your thighs and pulled you effortlessly towards him. "Wh-wait! Please...please don't go in..." You were aware of how your voice was shaking and there was still a hint of absolute desire in it, you were ashamed of it. Would Rick even listen to your plea?

"I-inside? My cock inside you?" He threw your legs over his shoulders and slapped his hard member several times on your clit. “Do you really think th-that you’re actually worthy of my fucking cock?! I’m not rewarding you, this is a punishment, sl-slut. Even if you end up begging me to r-ram my cock inside your lil-little cunt, I won’t.” Mixed emotions filled your heart – relief and sadness. This man was driving you insane.

Rick took his cock into his hand once again and rubbed his tip and and down between your pussy lips, feeling your wetness. “F-Fuuuck, baby, that’s what I do to you, huh? Some dry humping and nipple play and you’re all hot and bo-bothered for this old man.” His cock never touched your clit and you felt yourself almost begging for it. Subconsciously you moved your hips, hoping it would somehow help.

“Lo-look at that. What a little greedy who-whore you fucking are”, Rick understood what you wanted, and he was kind enough to grant you wish. This pre-cum leaking tip circled your clit, causing you to whimper and moan beneath him. “You love this old man’s cock, do-don’t you? Mr. Sanchez is taking such good care of you.”

He leaned down, his chest hovering above yours as he started to grind against you. How could it be that his cock was satisfying you without actually being inside you? He kept rocking his hips – hard and aggressive – your wetness served as some kind of lube as his shaft kept rubbing over your clit again and again and again. It was driving you crazy.

“You’re such a fucking wh-whore”, he hissed into your ear, his hand smacking your ass red, “I bet-bet you want me inside you now, huh? Want-want me to abuse that small cunt and put you to some go-good fucking use. Mmh…fuck, fucking shit…”

He was right. Rick was always right. You wanted him, no you needed him buried deep inside your clenching, pulsating walls. He was rough and dominant. Choking you, spanking your ass, slapping your cute face while staring deeply into your eyes and calling you a worthless whore.

“Please, sir, I-I’m begging you…”

“Oh, sweetheart, didn’t I tell you this was a punishment?”

And then he was gone, his back leaning against the wall as he sat on the other edge of the bed. No, he can’t be serious. “I actually w-wanted you to scream old man but I think denying you to cum is faaar worse for a dirty bitch like you.” He is actually serious.

“You’re an absolute fucking asshole! O my God!”, rage took over your body and shame slowly crept up. Instead of replying to you, Rick started to put his clothes on again. Even though he was still hard as a rock. Lazily he tossed your clothes over to you.

“Listen, princess, I-I told you I was going to punish you. How would it be pun-punishment if I let you squirt all over my dick? Besides”, he paused for a moment, “You were so fucking wet and begging for my cock that I was about to pound you like so-some fucked up wild animal. Wouldn’t want that now…or maybe you would, right, little one?” Yes, Rick was one second away from ramming his shaft inside your soaking pussy and fuck you to oblivion and back without giving two flying shits about your feelings. The angel on his shoulder – which barely showed up – advised him not to. He didn’t want to break your mind after all he just wanted to tame you and make you his fucktoy.

“Oh…”, dumbfounded you pulled your thong over your ass and your tank top over your head, didn’t really need anything else. You understood where Rick was coming from but you also senses that he wasn’t telling you the whole truth. Awkwardly you pulled the covers over your lower body and lowered your gaze.

A sigh fell from Rick’s lips, “y/n, chill out. I didn’t even fuck you. Here, take the bong.” He really didn’t have to tell you twice. In hopes to forget what just happened, even if it’s just for a fleeting moment, you first took a big gulp of some space-alcohol which was next to you on the workbench before taking a hit of the bong.

“We got five drinks down, another five to go!”

“What the actual f-fuck do you mean another five?! It’s like 2am, Rick!”

“I t-told you, y/n, we’re-we’re getting wasted tonight! No sleep just drinking and smoking, y/n! Let’s fucking goooo!”

His eyes narrowed with an unsettling intensity as he watched you, the woman he desired, moaning for C-137 on a large monitor. A surge of jealousy and possessiveness gripped him like a vice, his heart pounding with a mixture of anger and despair. Every fiber of his being screamed in protest, unable to bear the sight of you in the arms of another – whimpering and squirming, needy and horny. His hands curled into fists, nails digging into his palms as he fought to control the seething jealousy that threatened to consume him whole. With each passing moment, his obsession with you intensified, his mind swirling with thoughts of reclaiming what he believed to be rightfully his. He couldn't bear to see you with anyone else, couldn't fathom the idea of you belonging to another. In his eyes, you were his and his alone.

“How could you?! How the fuck could you?!”

With fury blazing in his eyes, he slammed his fists down onto the table with a force that reverberated through the room. The sharp sound of his anger echoed off the walls, punctuating the tense silence that enveloped the space. Each blow echoed his frustration, the intensity of his rage palpable in the way his knuckles whitened with each strike. His jaw clenched, muscles tensed, as he unleashed a torrent of pent-up emotions, his entire being consumed by a fiery wrath that threatened to consume him whole. The table trembled under the force of his fury, bearing the brunt of his unleashed rage as he struggled to contain the tempest raging within him. In that moment, he was a man possessed, his anger a primal force that demanded to be heard, leaving no doubt of the depth of his turmoil.

Maybe it was his fault. Maybe he should have fucked your brains out before sending you off. Maybe he should have written in his notes that you are his. Maybe he shouldn’t have given you a last chance at all. He always yearned to see the face that you made just a minute ago. He wanted to beg you beg for his cock, soaking wet and desperate enough to not refuse him.

How did C-137 get that far within a few hours?! “Maybe her subconscious is bound to me”, he whispered to himself. That must be it. After all you were his and C-137 just happened to be a version of him. For a split second he thought about bringing you back to him, so that C-137 would never touch you again or fuck you right in front of that bastard to show him who you belong to. But he couldn’t do that – not yet. C-137 didn’t achieve what he wanted him to. Sex was something which could also be taken by force (or under dubious circumstances like C-137 did), what he wanted could not be forced onto you.

“I will kill you for this, C-137.”

#𓂃⊹ ִֶָ 𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 #rick and morty #rick sanchez #rick sanchez x reader #rick sanchez x self insert #rick sanchez x y/n #rick sanchez x you #rick sanchez x oc #rick x you #rick x y/n #rick x reader #smut #degredation kink #master #sir #fanfiction #x reader

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5eraphim · 1 year

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Is it ok if you do yandere classic heavy x reader? The reader could be from his team or someone like a Miss Pauling for their team

I decided to answer this request with a oneshot, I wasn't certain if this was what you had in mind, (As in I didn't know for sure if you wanted this or headcanons.) but I hope you enjoy

Title: Backstabber

Character: Classic Heavy (Team Fortress 2)

Rating: X (MINORS DNI, GO PLAY OUTSIDE)

Content Warnings: yandere, AFAB reader/female terms of affection used (good girl/my girl), abuse of power, dubcon, boss x employee dynamic, TOXIC RELATIONSIHP, possessiveness, rough, degradation, toxic masculinity/sexist cheavy big time, technically hurt/comfort but more accurately hurt/hurt the other person, arguing but it's basically foreplay

Word Count: 5.5k

Master List

Tip Jar

"Desire gradually took over- not simple need, like hunger, but a taut elastic compulsion. It took all my energy to stand it, this urge to ravage." Jenefer Shute, Life Sized

@teufortwriting (asked to be tagged in classic heavy fics, this one's 4 u nd the anons hope you lot enjoy!!)

(post 1/31 of my version of kinktober where i write whatever i want for every day of october <3)

It was late; it was your day off, and yet here you were, working well into the night. At least when you worked from your quarters, you had the luxury of staying in pajamas all day. But warm gray sweatpants and a thin cotton tank top were little comfort from the real distress of work. You were in a rough situation. Virgil, the team Sniper, was missing in action, and you'd spent all day messaging with other mercenary groups from your laptop, messaging anyone you could think of, asking if anyone'd seen your Sniper.

Despite the entire day's effort, you had a bad feeling it would be all in vain. No one had seen a thing. At least no one who bothered to respond had. You were hardly surprised most of your messages went ignored. Just about everyone in the business knew of the growing bitterness among your team members, and no one wanted to get involved. No one was surprised to hear people were starting to abandon the team altogether. You shut your laptop, rubbing your temples, wondering if you were just one bad week away from the entire group falling apart.

A knock at the door disrupted your train of thought, as well as causing you to jolt slightly in your seat. You checked the clock; it was almost 10 p.m. Not only was today supposed to be a day off, but you couldn't imagine who would need to contact you at such an odd hour.

Needless to say, you were caught entirely by surprise when you saw your boss, of all people, looming overhead, clutching his side with one hand and leaning his weight on the door frame. For a moment, you just stared, unable to understand what he was doing here. Creasing your brow, you squinted, looking up at him, trying to see a bit better in the low light. "Cheavy?"

His head dipped forward slightly, and you could see his shoulders rising and falling with each jerky breath he took. "No shit. Let me in."

Only then did you notice the dank smell of blood wafting from Cheavy, and you found it a lot harder to avoid looking at the hand at his side, catching the dampness of the fabric he clenched between his fingers.

Faltering for a moment, you nodded, pushing the door wider and stepping out of the way. He didn't say anything as he pushed his way inside, keeping one hand against the wall to brace his weight against as he shuffled forward on unsteady legs. You watched for your position at the door as he trudged to the bed, making the box spring creak slightly as he sat down on the edge, curling forward as he took a deep breath.

After shutting and re-locking the door, you lingered awkwardly in the doorway, feeling suddenly quite out of place in your own bedroom. Cheavy looked like hell. You'd never seen him look so beat up. It was so out of character to see him like this. "Cheavy, what happened to you?"

"Stabbed." He grumbled.

You crept closer on shaky legs as if approaching a rabid dog. "Why did you come all the way here? Shouldn't you go check in with Medic?"

He pulled off his goggles, wiping the sweat from his brow with his clean hand, "I know you've got a first aid kit in here, now come patch me up." Despite his command, you were too scared to get any closer.

"Alright, um- I'll get right on it. Just get comfortable, and I'll go grab some painkillers for you. I'll be right-"

He interrupted with a gruff bark before you could finish your thought, "You're not going anywhere! Not until I'm patched up."

"Cheavy, I'm not gonna leave you, c'mon I'll just be one minute." You replied in a much quieter voice.

"I'll tell you one more time- you're not going anywhere!" He didn't need to waste his breath with a threat. You got the message loud and clear, after whatever happened to him earlier, he was in no mood for you to test his patience.

"Understood." You replied curtly. Cheavy was scaring the shit out of you, but you tried to reason with yourself. The sooner you got him patched up, the sooner he'd be out. He was clearly in a lot of pain, but at least he was responsive; he could move on his own, and if it was just one stab wound, you were confident it shouldn't be too hard to patch up.

Everyone on the team had a first aid kit in their dorm, even though you weren't technically on the team. Even if you couldn't remember ever actually using it. While you weren't as trained as a Medic to treat combat injuries, it didn't take a genius to clean and patch a wound. Gathering your supplies, you pulled on some disposable gloves, bringing a bowl of water and a clean rag, having no idea if it would be enough to clean him up, mentally praying the wound wasn't deep enough to need stitches.

When you returned with your supplies, Cheavy was already on his back, his shirt and harness in a bloodied heap beside his boots on the floor. Drawing a little closer, you realized pulling off his shirt must've agitated his cut, causing fresh blood to fall directly onto your sheets.

Steeling your resolve, you tiptoed closer with your first aid kit tucked under your elbow, the rag draped over your shoulder using both hands to keep the bowl balanced. When you finally got to his bedside, standing over him, "I'm going to clean you up first. Can you move your hand for me?"

Cheavy winced slightly but was able to comply, staining the bed with even more blood as his wet hand white-knuckled your bedding. Now that you could get a good look at the wound, you thanked God it wasn't deep enough to require stitches. Fortunately for Cheavy, no severe damage was done to his muscles or bones, but it was one of the last places anyone would want to cut because of the thinner skin and all the nerve endings. The cut ran over his ribs in an angry red streak from the side of his lower ribs, arching up and ending a bit below his pec. It would need an awful lot of bandages but no stitches.

"I'm going to clean the dried blood up first. This is going to feel a bit cold."

Cheavy didn't respond, just nodded with his eyes still closed, preemptively curling a pillow under the bend in his arm. He obviously wasn't comfortable, but at least he didn't look so infuriated. He hardly reacted when you pressed the damp to his lower belly, using one hand to gently scrub and the other to push into his gut to keep yourself from accidentally tugging at the wound.

It was going to take a while to fully clean him, and you couldn't stop wondering why the hell he came to you, of all people, to take care of him. Wringing out the rag, you inquired, "So… The Medicine just disappeared? Did he say anything odd the last time you saw him?"

Cheavy huffed, "Obviously not. If you didn't know, deserters don't leave with 2-week notices."

"Right, sorry…" You responded. Gingerly, you began to dab the rag a little further up his chest, already dreading when you'd have to sterilize his wound. Cleaning up his upper body alone would take long enough. You felt so small bedside Cheavy, your hands absolutely tiny and ineffective trying to aid the titan before you. Even in this state, he could snap your arm like a twig if he wanted to.

So much blood had clotted in his chest hair as you timidly worked away; your fingers were wrinkling from the water, and yet there was still so much work to be done. At least he looked comfortable. You could vaguely feel his heart beating deep inside his chest as his breathing slowed and deepened. The tension finally left his face. Had you ever seen him so relaxed before? It was a pity to disrupt it, "I'm going to disinfect the wound now; it's going to sting pretty bad."

He practically groaned, "Like I haven't had worse today." Cheavy was right. Given what he must've been through, a slight stinging was nothing; all the same, it was impossible to steady your hand as you raised an iodine-soaked cotton ball to the wound's hideous gaping wound. He hardly flinched when the cotton dabbed against his side. At first, you felt guilty for not getting him something to numb the pain before getting started, but you were feeling pretty sure he'd snagged something before he got here.

You stopped counting the cotton balls you had to use to finish cleaning him up. The scent of blood hung thick in the air, radiating from the used cotton balls in the wastebasket, the bedsheets, and his ruined shirt, and you knew your fingers probably wrecked his blood, too.

But at last, he was cleaned, the bleeding stopped, all there was left to do was tape the gauze over the wound, and you'd be all done. As you suspected, you had to tape no less than 4 gauze pads together to fully cover the injury. The hardest part was over; all you had to do now was pat dry the rest of the water from his chest. You almost thought he'd fallen asleep, startling slightly when you heard him speak, "You find Virgil yet?"

So much for seeing him calm, "Sorry, I haven't."

"Figures." And just like that, he was pissed again.

As you pat the last section of his abdomen dry, you immediately retracted your hands, wringing them anxiously as you took a few steps back from the bed. "I have found a couple leads, though! It's not much, but I was exchanging messages with some other mercenary groups and-"

In the blink of an eye, he was propped upright on his elbow, leaning to the side to glare at you. He was pissed, but you could tell he was still hurting pretty bad as he balled his hands into fists, forcing himself to stand his ground and show no weakness, "Other mercenary groups? And what the hell are you trying to contact them for? You gonna abandon the team, too?"

"No! Of course not! I just thought maybe if more people were looking for Virgil, we might have a better shot of tracking him down, you know?" If you had any idea you could set him off so quickly, you'd never opened your mouth in the first place, and you knew backtracking like this was getting you nowhere. Once he decided he was mad at you, that was it. He had a short fuse with a hell of a fiery temper.

"You need other people to do your damn job for you? Is that it? Can't you do anything right yourself?"

You were too scared to get any closer to the bed, but you tried to keep your voice level as though it would be enough to convince him you weren't frightened. "Cheavy, will you please lay down, your wound will open up again. All I did was ask around if anyone's seen him recently- that's all. No one is doing my job for me."

His eyes narrowed, "No if you could do your damn job, he wouldn't be missing!"

You opened your mouth to speak, but he was acting so vicious, taking all his aggression out on you, knowing you couldn't do a thing to defend yourself. "Just let him get it out of his system. He'll want to be back in his own bed eventually." You thought, swallowing the lump in your throat, you muttered, "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? Well, thank God for that." He shifted in bed, laying down on his back, gritting his teeth, "Is this gonna hold up tomorrow in battle?"

You stared at the white patch of gauze and tape at his side, suddenly feeling quite meek, ashamed a patch job was the best you could do, as though this was your responsibility in the first place. "It's not perfect, but so long as you don't overexert yourself, you'll be all set soon."

He almost laughed, "We're losing men left and right, and you think I have the choice not to overexert myself? Is that the best you can do?"

At this point, you could tell Cheavy was just being cruel, he wanted you to feel small and humiliated, and it was working, and you could already feel the sting of tears in the corners of your eyes, "You think it's my fault our men are going missing?"

"Is it not your job to find them? You expect me to believe you've been corresponding with all these other mercenary groups, and what do you have to show for it? If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were looking to follow Virgil and Medic out the door."

You opened your mouth to speak, but before you could, he interrupted, "I want to see the correspondence, all of it. If you're so innocent, surely you got nothing to hide, right?"

You felt your stomach drop, "I don't have it… I didn't hear anything promising back… I didn't keep any records."

His voice lowered, "How convenient."

"Cheavy, I know this looks bad, but you must believe me! I would never abandon the team!"

With that sinister, low voice, Cheavy spoke again, "You're nothing without loyalty. I hope you aren't dumb enough to forget something so obvious."

"Cheavy, I'm not going anywhere, for God's sake, you're paranoid."

"So I'm just an idiot then? Is that it?"

"That's not what I said! Of course, I'm loyal to you- to the entire team!" It was getting harder and harder to keep the tears down. God, you hated dealing with him when he was in a bad mood.

"Forget about them. You're nothing without me- you know that, right? You're only alive now because you're useful- and if you double cross me- bitch, you're dead." He was absolutely seething. "Get over here. I want you to look me in the eye and tell me you're innocent."

Your instincts told you to run and get out while you could, but something unnamable drew you closer: some subliminal obedience. Pacing closer, you stood an arm's length from the bed, "I-I know, Cheavy, this looks bad… But you gotta believe me, I'm on your side! I've always been on your side!"

A chill ran up your spine as he grinned up at you; the sight of a smile on his face was beyond unnatural. "You women love saying that shit, don't you? But I know how it is, you bitches think you're so clever, so charming. You look for the strongest guy to leech off of and hide behind. But the second you see someone else- it's all over. I know your type. You don't give a fuck about anyone but yourself!"

"It's not like that, Cheavy! It's not like that at all!" It made too much sense listening to Cheavy exposing such sexism.

"Must be nice, huh? Leaving all the real work for the men while you get to take it easy?"

After the day of stress you just suffered, that comment stung, but he didn't give you a chance to respond or defend yourself. "You can't track down a few runaways- you can hardly patch up a wound. I can't even trust you alone for one day without me!"

"I'm sorry I let you down. I'm sorry everything's going wrong… but please, I don't know what more you want from me!"

"Don't play dumb bitch, you know why I came here." He couldn't be serious. He just called you worthless and detestable. How could he possibly want you after all that? But the look across his face told you he was dead serious.

"No, Cheavy- please, not like this. God, anything but that." Just thinking about him taking his aggression out on you verbally was enough, but the thought of him doing it physically was so much worse.

"Do you need me to spell it out for you because you've got one choice here. You can get on the bed and fucking earn your place here for once, or I'll snap your neck."

Cheavy had been nothing but cold, abrasive, and blunt working with you, and while he was still a man with needs like any other, the idea of someone like himself considering taking mercy on you, even just to use your body, confounded you.

You felt your blood turn to ice in your veins, "You wouldn't…"

Cheavy watched the color drain from your face with an odd expression somewhere between hatred and amusement. "I wouldn't? Killing you wouldn't cost me a damn thing."

While you wanted to resist, to argue your way out of the situation, the words died in your throat before you could say a thing. It was impossible to tell what he wanted more, to kill or fuck. Cheavy watched from the bed with sadistic pleasure, watching your confidence crumble like he could smell your fear. Staring at you more like a wild animal than a human.

"How can I trust you not to kill me once I give you what you want?" You were past resistance at this point; you knew what was about to happen, and he knew it, too.

"You can't. Now c'mere. I want you to prove you belong." Cheavy was past shouting at you. He knew he'd won. Now he was cold and still, expecting you to be the one to make the next move. You were too terrified to even try to come off as sexy. The most you could offer was compliance. Slinking into the bed, crawling in from the foot of the bed before padding over silently, sliding into place between his body and the wall, laying on your side. He took up so much space in the bed that you felt like you had no choice but to cower to fit.

Stilling momentarily as though waiting for an order, you realized it was your job to turn him on tonight. Looking directly at his lips, you reached over, cupping the side of his face with your palm, smoothing your thumb over the stubble. "So far, so good. Maybe he wants me to act scared?" You thought to yourself. That sounded like something he would want from you. Starting slow was your safest bet.

Leaning your face closer to his, you closed the distance between your lips, pecking him shyly as he followed your slow pace. While he lay flat on his back, you found his hand with yours, cradling it between both hands, rubbing the toughened skin with your thumbs, warming them slightly. His other hand found the back of your neck, pushing your head closer to deepen the kiss, to which you complied, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth, his teeth grazing against your lips.

It was a bit of an awkward position, having to lay on your side, one arm caressing the side of his face, one leg wrapped over his, while Cheavy laid on his back, forcing you to crawl closer. He was trying to urge you to keep going, but you were too nervous to get too close, terrified of accidentally pressing against his fresh injury.

Cheavy, on the other hand, wasn't so cautious, "Get on top."

It took you some time until you were properly situated, shifting from his side to between his legs, straddling his waist, leaning forward carefully, avoiding his abdomen as much as possible. Once you were within arms reach, his hands were at your waist, trying to pull your body even closer with a hardly concealed neediness. You complied, kissing him, cupping his cheeks with your hands, pulling apart briefly to whisper, "Cheavy, you gotta take it easy. Your wound could split back open."

He grinned, "So what? You'll still be here to patch it up for me, right?"

You weren't sure if he was making a joke or if he wanted an honest answer. Trying to acquiesce to either demand, your face softened, and you nodded, your thumb slid over his lip as you continued to stroke his face, "Right."

"Good girl." You weren't sure what caught you more by surprise, the use of a pet name or the feeling of his right hand groping against your ass through your sweatpants. You allowed Cheavy another open-mouthed kiss, feeling him suck your lower lip between his teeth, nibbling it in an almost playful manner.

When you first laid hands on him earlier in the evening, his skin was cold to the touch, but now he felt so warm beneath your chest and between your thighs. And you could feel his legs spreading further as you finally felt comfortable enough to press your body against his broad chest. "Take your top off, I wanna watch."

He watched with lazy half-lid eyes as you nodded, pulling away enough to hook your fingers under the hem of your tank top, feeling a questionable arousal as you pulled the thin fabric away, now looming bare-chested just a breath away. You watched as he slid his massive hands up the length of your torso, groaning in pleasure at the feeling of precious, soft skin underneath his fingertips. The warm feeling deep in the base of your stomach increased when his hands reached your tits, wasting no time before kneading them with his palms, watching the fatty tissue squish between his fingers. "Come closer."

Bracing your weight on your elbows on either side of his head, you nuzzled against the side of his head as his hands squeezed just a bit tighter. For a split-second, you almost wondered if he would be gentler than you expected until you felt him grind his thumb harshly against your nipple, making you yelp and fruitlessly try to arch away from his hands.

"Does that hurt?"

"Yeah!" Before you could try to pull away again, you felt Heavy's face separate from yours before biting down on the side of your neck, no doubt drawing blood as he did so. You hardly had time to react to the pain when you felt your body moving without your control. Cheavy detached from your tits to dig his fingernails against your back, forcing your body to flatten against his own, his lower body grinding his semi-erection against your limp body. The pain began to dwarf your rising fear as your arms and legs began to flap and push against Cheavy uselessly in resistance.

Cheavy was moving so fast, but you felt too weak and helpless to stop him as he greedily continued to bite and suckle against your sensitive neck. You had to force your head from the mattress; it was getting too hard to breathe, and you could feel yourself beginning to breathe rapidly, your heart beating so fast, making it impossible to think.

You could feel Cheavy disconnect from your neck, and you winced, keeping your eyes shut in fear of feeling him lash out again. Instead, he stilled, keeping your trembling body forcefully close to his own, "God, you're sexy when you cry." Confused, you blinked your eyes open, only then registering the tears clinging to your lashes. Instinctively, you moved your hands to brush them away, but Cheavy shook his head, giving you an odd look, which you interpreted as him telling you to stop. Laying your hands back down, he used his grip on your back to push you forward, but rather than forcing you into another deep kiss, his tongue slid out, flicking against your cheeks, the weird feeling making you shut your eyes as he continued to lap up your tears, kissing your eyelid when he was finished.

"You feel so good when you're mine."

Cheavy released you from his hold, allowing you to push away slightly, wondering what he wanted next.

"Take the rest of your clothes off. Mine too." You complied. Kicking off your bottoms and underwear at once, followed by your socks, before turning your attention to his heavy-duty work pants, visibly strained by his erection. Settling between his legs, your hands found his belt, undoing the clasp and top button. Cheavy sighed with relief at the feeling of the zipper finally coming undone, the erotic sounds distracting you momentarily before you turned your attention back to your task.

He moved with you, helping you pull his pants down and off before your fingers found the waistband of his boxers. The sight of his tented clothing distracted you and forced you to acknowledge that once this last bit of fabric was gone, there would be nothing separating your bodies. Rather than pulling them down as quickly as you'd done to his pants, you curiously palmed over the swell, making him hiss between grit teeth. He was obviously impatient, but he didn't tell you to stop.

Partially to delay the inevitable, partially out of curiosity, you traced the outline of his bulge with your finger, dipping lower, feeling the shape of his balls between his spread legs. Even with feather-light touches, Cheavy reacted with vigor, bucking upwards as though it would do anything to satisfy him.

"C'mon, quit messing around already!" He ordered, no longer looking at you. His head had rolled back while you were playing with him, and he was still facing upwards when he spoke. Sighing through your nose, you complied, using both hands to fully undress him before forcing yourself to crawl back on top.

"You're so eager." You didn't think anything of your words but felt unnerved when he smiled in response, "And it's all your fault." You stiffened over his massive body, shutting your eyes, half-expecting him to just force his way inside of you, but to your surprise, you heard him spitting, followed by the feeling of two thick fingers tapping at the outer edge of your sex. The unexpectedness surprised you, making you gasp and look down at what he was doing. Teasing you, forcing you to get a feel for him as he dragged his fingers against you, making you throb against nothing.

"That's my girl, don't fight it. Just let it happen." It was easier to handle the situation with your eyes closed, not having to look at the loathsome man while he violated you. Resting your forehead on his shoulder, you felt your hips stirred to movement, trying to match his slow rhythm, hitching up anytime you felt him brushing against your clit. His fingers, already wet with his spit, gathered more wetness as he slipped inside you, making you groan as you were forced to stretch against his fingers.

You tried to catch your breath when he eventually retracted his fingers, smearing the lubrication against his cock. It was just a trace of your warmth, but the promise of the real thing so close had him rock-hard and aligned right where he needed to be, getting a good grip on your hips to ensure you wouldn't try to squirm away. He pushed his head inside, going mercifully slow, allowing you time to adjust to his size before going further. "Does it feel good? Does it feel good to feel my cock inside you while I hold you down?"

It did, it shouldn't have, but it did. You realized Cheavy wasn't going to move until you responded, and you forced yourself to croak out, "It's not like I'm going anywhere."

"Is that so?" Was all the warning you got from him before he pushed deeper inside you, forcing you to keep stretching around his shaft. It hurt as you expected, but something about how he held you down and teased you had you wet, silently begging him to go even deeper.

By the time he bottomed out inside, you were shaking like a leaf against Cheavy, who relished in your fear in the way he would force you to behave so well for him. "Good thing I got here before you ran away." He snickered to himself before snapping his hips against yours, watching your body tense, your hands gripping much harder against his shoulders than you intended.

You whimpered, "Cheavy, I'd never abandon the team, you know that- You know I'll be here forever!" Whether it was listening to you whimpering, sounding so pathetic, or the line, "here forever," something about what you said set him off. Making him grunt in satisfaction, continuing to grind against you.

"Forever?" His voice was a bit deeper now, making you shudder.

"Forever! On your side, I swear!" He must've been much more pent up than you realized because he was hammering into you with reckless abandon, already turned on and wanting more. Rather than responding to your words, he sort of grunted in approval. He was too close to climaxing to bother with complete sentences. His eyes were shut, his face tense with anticipation, both hands on the swell of your ass, forcing you to grind against him as he continued to pound inside, treating you like nothing but a piece of meat for him to tear into. He was all lust and no love, fucking like an animal. All his blood was rushing south; you knew the moment he could think clearly, he'd be done with you.

You should've been revolted. Cheavy hated your guts and saw you as nothing but a body. But how could you remember all that when it felt so good to feel his cock stretching you out, feeling his sweat mixing with your own, his hands pushing you forward until your clit ground against his lower belly. No doubt he could feel you were getting off on being rough-handled like this. You could even hear the sound of your own slick mixing with his spit and precum between thrusts.

Between heavy, labored breathing, you pushed your face right up against his to moan in his ear, "I'm yours; I'm all yours." Almost as soon as the words left your mouth, you gasped before gritting your teeth in pain as Cheavy thrust all the way inside you, coming as deep inside as he could, accidentally clawing at your rear as he mindlessly forced you forward. The brutalism made you lightheaded, feeling so weak and broken down in his arms.

After a few more agonizing seconds, you felt his hands slip from your hips, sliding down your thighs, kneading his fingertips gently into the flesh of your outer thighs, allowing you to disconnect, feeling traces of him clinging and running between your thighs, making you sick. Obviously, he expected you to share the bed with him and wouldn't take kindly to you leaving to get cleaned up. It's not like you had anywhere else to go anyway. The best you could do was dabbing at the mess with a sheet, trying not to think about how filthy it made you feel. The sheets were likely stained with cum and blood, just like you.

Slotting yourself back into place beside him, facing the wall, you felt a hairy arm wrap around your upper body, pulling you possessively into Cheavy's chest. He'd taken the liberty of turning off the bedside lamp, allowing a merciful darkness to settle over the room.

Without turning your head to speak to him, you whispered, "You believe me now, don't you?"

Cheavy kissed the top of your head, pulling you closer, "We'll see. You've earned your stay here, but just for tonight."

You couldn't help but moan under your breath, somehow feeling even more broken down, "I don't understand- for God's sake, Cheavy! I've done all you've asked of me! What more do you want from me!?"

"Until we find where our real Medic went- you're gonna fill in for him." He sounded tired, almost bored, as though he'd come to this decision before even showing up.

You had to bite your lower lip to try and keep as quiet as you could, to keep from crying out loud and irritating him, "But I don't know how-"

"Then you'd better learn fast." Whatever reservations you had were clearly of no concern to him. As far as Cheavy cared, the decision was made. He'd gotten what he wanted and was due for some much needed rest.

How desperately you wished you could just roll over and let sleep take you like he could, but as you lay frozen in place, your mind racing, imagining yourself forced to follow the team into battle, risking your own skin to protect the man you hated more than anyone.

Cheavy leaned down slightly to breathe in your ear before tucking your head under his chin and drifting off, "And if you ever try to go behind my back again, I'll blow your damn head off."

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