#hatred x reader

"Are you... really sure about this?" your voice came out faint, showing just how unsure you felt. You laid on the red bed you first found yourself on in... whatever realm this is, with Builderman by your side.

Not really Builderman actually.

"You're tense," Hatred looked down on you, position between your legs as his body hovered over you. The smile on his face wide and cunning. "You need to relax more."

You didn't think you would end up here again after finally retrieving the ghostwalker. But fate seems to have different ideas when you started getting dreams of being back in this room. You figured you have already tamed these emotions, at least push them down far enough so they wouldn't get in the way anymore.

But Hatred was always the outlier compared to the rest.

Sometimes appearing with the face of Builderman, or that red form you fought against before waking up in the basement of Telamon's manor. Of course you were defensive at first, but after multiple visits to this room in the nights after, it appeared Hatred couldn't really do much against you.

Somehow, it lead up to this.

Even when bearing Builderman's appearance, they kept those red horns and tail.

"Its because I know you like them," Hatred's voice cut through your thoughts, chuckling deeply at the look of surprise on your face. "Don't be too surprised now, I know everything going on in that little head of yours," One of his hands raises up to poke at your forehead, and you tense up once again.

"I don't need you reading my mind," you huff out, pushing aside his hand away from your face. "Look, are you going to, you know, do it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Hatred's grin widens to expose the sharp canines, "what do you mean by "it"?" you can see his tail sharply waving behind him, gritting your teeth knowing that if he can't exactly harm you in these "dreams", getting on your nerves and humiliating you was the next best thing.

"I'm not saying it out loud!" You try to cross your arms, but Hatred was fast with his movements, hands clamping onto your wrists before pinning them on the bed on either side of your head.

"Do you want it or not?" His words dropped the playfulness from before almost immediately, and you wince from the way his claws dug into your skin. You could feel your fingers lock up from the lack of blood flow to them. "Say it."

"I- I want you to," you hesitate for one moment, gasping in pain as he purposely dug his claws into your skin more, "I want you to fuck me, please!"

The pressure of the claws release once you spout out those words, leaving a lingering feeling of its presence on your skin. Hatred's smiling becoming more lax, satisfied with your response.

"Not that hard to say, right?" you felt his arousal grind up against you, skin jumping at the contact. "Just needed... a little push to get it out." He continued those movements with a rolling motion, hands releasing your wrists now as they travel up your arms towards your torso.

"You can't hide anything from me, you know this very well by now," Your eyes were closed in embarrassment now, but you can tell he had that shit eating grin on his face from the way his hands glided over your chest, putting down more pressure as they reach to the bottom hem of your shirt. "And I mean anything."

You feel your shirt roughly pushed upwards, letting out a squeak of surprise in the sudden motion. With no care in regards to your clothing, Hatred uses his claw to cut your bra in half, quickly discarding the item to the side before both of his hands groped at your chest.

Hatred's fingers massage into the plump flesh, almost too gentle like for what you expected from him. The sounds of your heavy breathing and subtle gasps only serving as fuel for Hatred as he kept with his grinding motions into your increasingly dampening crotch.

"All this effort to get those swords... you don't even bother to help yourself now, do you?" You couldn't tell if there was genuine care in those words, "Already letting yourself get so excited from all of this. Its a pathetic look on you~" he laughs as his insult towards you, enjoying the way your face scrunched up, your wordless reaction to your disliking to what he said.

"Aw, don't be too mad about it, I am right," You don't see it, refusing to open your eyes, but you feel him shift his position, getting closer to you- "AHH!" your eyes shot open feeling a painful pinch on your nipple, and you quickly look down towards your chest. Hatred was looking right back up at you, a gleam in his eye as he help the sensitive but between his teeth. "What the heck was that for?!"

"Couldn't have you have your eyes closed the entire time now, less fun that way~" You would have slapped him for that, but considering your current position, you weren't ready for the punishment that would have followed.

"Good girl, I would have only made you beg for it if you did," oh right, he can kinda read your mind in a way. "Now, keep being that good girl for me and get these pants off before I actually decide to make you scream for it."

He lifts himself up enough to give you the room to follow his order. You had a bad feeling if you made him wait, so in a scramble you go to undress yourself. The sight of you almost being clumsy with yourself as a sight to behold for Hatred, something he will be using against you when the time for it happens.

The moment you finally kicked those pants off, Hatred's eyes find themselves looking towards the damp panties. One of his hands holds the inner section of your now exposed thigh, the other going towards your damp heat, fingers teasingly pressing into the cloth before making slow circle motions against it.

"Did you even considered how pent up you got? Never even taken the time to... relax yourself?" His motions become more intense. He didn't expect any real response from you, not like you can from the string of embarrassing mewls coming from your mouth. "I know you at least thought about it with... who was it again? That... Griefer guy?"

You felt your heart drop at the name drop, eyes snapping towards Hatred before they're squeezing closed again as his fingers dip underneath the cloth. The rough pads of his fingers quickly swiping over your sensitive clit. The sounds you were making now louder than before thanks to the skin to skin contact.

"Even if that loud mouth was more than pleased tossing you around, you liked that." His fingers effortlessly slipped between your folds, digits starting at a fast past and pressing against the sensitive spots within you. "You like it when things get rough, and you want to get rough with him, don't you?" A cruel laugh leaves him, watching your shame show on your face. Almost as if he was getting off to your humiliation.

The room felt heavy with the sexual tense, sounds of Hatred's fingers slick with your arousal as he continued to finger you, doing whatever he can to get those delicious sounds of pleasure from you even if you fluster below him.

"You ever think if he thought of you that way?" A third finger is prodded into you, all of them stretching you open with a scissoring motion. Your body wriggling on the blanket, hips rising up involuntary. "All alone in his room or wherever he is, thinking about you the same way you think about him?"

His thumb goes over to rub on your clit, and the moan that was ripped from you was more than embarrassing to hear. Hatred only enjoying the sight and sounds you gave off as he continued his motions.

"You don't need to answer, I already know." you could barely hear him over your moaning, a mixture of emotions flowing through you. Toes painfully curling as you felt yourself reaching your peak.

Hatred was well aware of how close you are, his fingers loudly thrusting into you, completely drenched in your slick as his thumb continued to press circles into your clit.

He didn't even need to tell you it, almost as if the words popped in your head. Your body feeling a rush of pleasure as you hit your orgasm. Hatred watched your body convulse, fingers still moving, not caring if you were overly sensitive now.

"Maybe next time, I can look like him."

You can't exactly remember what happen next when you found yourself waking up in a cold sweat. The your hotel room was dark, the clock on the bedside table indicating it was still night.

You cringe at the wet feeling between your legs, and the memories of what just happen that flooded your head. You weren't sure how to act if you saw Brad again.

your hand on griefer's thigh while he was sitting up and playing video games, occasionally mumbling and cursing under his breath, and hatred's arms around your waist, their breath warm against the skin of your neck.

the emotion's normally snarky demeanor was snuffed for the time-being, instead humming lazily as he peppered kisses across your skin, occasionally teasing you by dragging a tooth across your flesh, making you jolt in response. jerk.

"th3s3 d4mn kids k33p fuckin' up my high sc0r3," griefer complained, his red eyes narrowing at the screen, practically seconds away from tossing his controller across the room and then shattering it with a hammer.

"sucks to suck, babe." you replied, giving his thigh a small reassuring pat, refusing to open your eyes, even when griefer let out a confused sound - as if you didn't understand how hard this was for him. to be beaten by literal children in a game.

"wh4- B4B3! C'M0N!" he felt like dying instead, trying to figure out how to get you to sympathize with him and his ever-growing losing streak.

hatred smirked at the small back-and-forth between you both, his tail lashing against the beanbag before reaching over and just plucking the controller right out of griefer's hands and tossing it carelessly aside.

griefer looked absolutely dumbfounded, his glasses practically falling off his face. he covered his face with his hands, falling back against the beanbag with a loud groan of annoyance.

you simply shrugged at his over-the-top display, simply wrapping your arms around him and pulling him close, feeling how his body seemed to tense at the sudden touch before ultimately relaxing. if he was a cat he'd be purring by now.

the whole world seemed to quiet down. the three of you just wrapped in eachothers arms. in this nice safe bubble that you three had built.

"GAME!" boomed from the tv, a sudden reminder of the game still going on and the many chat messages of people telling griefer to 'do something'.

it earned a small snicker from you and a loud laugh from hatred. griefer was less than amused.

you should've known it wouldn't be that easy to beat back the festering hatred in your soul. always, always it will forever be a part of you. black tar stuck clinging to your heart. everywhere you go, look, it hangs in the back of your mind like the uvula in the back of your throat. you've come to terms with that. sufficient time has been spent with it to know attempts to extinguish it only fan the flames.

but it's especially difficult to ignore when it's in front of you.

even more so when it feels like being a total bother.

"R I S E ."

you're abruptly jolted awake from your nap when a thin paw smacks your face, hard enough to elicit an annoyed "ow" but not quite painful. just enough to get your attention, which it does. still groggy, you groan, blinking away your lingering sleep. even before your vision clears, the dark red cat-shaped blur doesn't really leave any room for suspension.

"..what. what do you want." aggravated, you tsk with every 't'. 

hatred simply stretches unperturbed arching its back to the ceiling. "I H U N G E R ."

your eye twitches. "there's no way i have to feed you too."

"N O . N O T F O O D ."

for a moment, you stare at it. it stares back, barbed tail swishing like a pendulum behind it. then, with one last scowl, you snuggle deeper into your blanket in hopes that sleep takes you again sooner rather than later. bastard wants to wake you up and make you solve its riddles three like it's some damn bridge troll. it's not enough for the damn thing to take your soul—no, it just has to take your brain too.

another swat hits your back, but this time with slight claws. as much as hatred hates to be called a cat, it sure played the part exceptionally well.

"I T C H Y . . ."

it raises its paw, about to whack you again, but stops when your hand shoots out and scratches between its horns. you're by no means gentle with the motion, in fact it's rather rough, but it does the job fine anyhow. though, you cannot grasp the sheer oddity of hatred's texture. it's not fluffy nor hard nor solid nor wet nor dry. the best way to describe it, if you could tie it to something of this world, would be like dipping your hand in static.

its head tilts up, leaning into the touch. the static-like feeling intensifies, growing into a biting sensation. you wince, but press on. a greater pain will await you if you dare stop.

hoping it helps, your hand moves under its chin. thankfully, the pain reduces to a feeling more like pricking your fingers. you sigh, the tension in your body dwindling slightly. the whole thing feels surprisingly tender, mundane even. but still, lowering your guard is the last thing you want to do around it.

"you're like some weird cat."

a low droning sound emits from it in response, akin to purring but not exactly. it's more like muted and pitched down screams of the damned. not as cute.

beneath your fingers, hatred's texture begins to morph, solidify. the static feels as if it's slowly fixing itself and forming a picture. the round chin chisels itself into a more defined end, your fingers slowly growing more hesitant to continue. eyes wide, you can only watch in horror as the red swells from lanky lines to larger limbs, more proportionately humanoid. then, sprouting out of the body's silhouette, clothes: a helmet, vest, and pants. and when the transformation finishes, the chrysalis of distinct red washes off to reveal an undercoat of colors and an innocent smile.

hatred tilts its face—builderman's face, humming pleasantly as if nothing happened, "what's wrong? i thought you would prefer—"

when the red disappeared from hatred's appearance, it must have transferred to you. hot blush burning acres of your skin, you yell, "I AM NOT SCRATCHING THE CHIN OF A GROWN ASS DUDE."

you turn over dramatically, preferring to face the back of the couch rather than the creature in front of you. thankfully, hatred does not bother you again. it only darkly chuckles (it's only spurred more when it sees you flinch at that) and situates itself on the edge, the couch sinking from its weight. glancing over your form, its amusement bubbles especially at the sheer force you've clenched your eyes and blanket with.

it's been satisfied. for now.

YOUR WEAPON FELT heavy in your grip, your breath coming in shallow gasps.

Hatred's mocking voice rang out, dripping with disdain. It still wore Builderman’s form, its tone deceptively gentle.

“POOR LITTLE THING,” it cooed, taking a leisurely step forward. “YOU’RE SHAKING. ARE YOU SCARED? OR IS THAT JUST EXHAUSTION?”

You glared, biting back a sharp retort as you readied your weapon. “Stop talking like that. I know who you really are.”

“OH, DO YOU?” Builderman’s familiar visage wavered, melting away like wax in the sun. In its place stood Hatred in all its grotesque glory.

Its tall, slender form shifted unnaturally, the spiked tail lazily curling behind it. “BUT YOU STILL FOUGHT SO HARD WHEN I LOOKED LIKE HIM. DID I REMIND YOU OF SOMETHING? SOMEONE?”

“Shut up.”

Hatred grinned, sharp teeth glinting. “I must’ve struck a nerve.” It moved closer, each step slow and deliberate.

“YOU WEAR THAT FIERCE EXPRESSION WELL, BUT YOUR TREMBLING HANDS RUIN THE EFFECT. DO YOU EVEN BELIEVE YOU CAN WIN?”

“I don’t need to believe it,” you shot back. “I just need to fight.”

It tilted its head, its horns catching the dim light. “ADMIRABLE, REALLY. FOOLISH, BUT ADMIRABLE. TELL ME, DOES IT STING TO KNOW THAT ALL YOUR EFFORT, ALL YOUR PRECIOUS DETERMINATION, MEANS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO ME?”

You lunged, the blade slicing through the space it had occupied mere moments before.

But Hatred’s body twisted and flowed like liquid, reforming beside you with unnerving ease.

“MISSED,” it sang, leaning in close. “YOU’VE GOT SPIRIT. I’LL GIVE YOU THAT. NOT SKILL, MIND YOU—BUT SPIRIT.”

You spun around, slashing at it again, but it merely sidestepped, its spiked tail flicking like a cat toying with a cornered mouse.

“DO YOU EVEN HAVE A PLAN?” it continued, circling you with a leisurely pace.

“OR ARE YOU JUST SWINGING WILDLY AND HOPING FOR A MIRACLE? HATE TO BREAK IT TO YOU, BUT MIRACLES DON’T HAPPEN TO PEOPLE LIKE YOU.”

“Stop talking,” you growled, your voice low and dangerous.

“OH, BUT WHERE’S THE FUN IN THAT?” Its grin widened, impossibly smug.

“YOU’RE SO SERIOUS. SO DETERMINED. IT’S ALMOST CUTE. ALMOST. TELL ME, DO YOU THINK THAT SCOWL OF YOURS INTIMIDATES ME?”

You lunged again, this time feinting to catch it off guard.

For a moment, its form rippled, and you thought you’d finally landed a hit—only for it to reform behind you, its laughter echoing in your ears.

“CLEVER,” it admitted, mock applause accompanying the word.

“STILL USELESS, BUT CLEVER. DO YOU WANT ME TO SLOW DOWN FOR YOU? MAYBE STAND STILL? I’D HATE FOR YOU TO THINK I’M UNFAIR.”

“You’re infuriating,” you hissed, your knuckles tightening around your weapon.

“AND YOU’RE PREDICTABLE,” it countered smoothly, leaning lazily against nothing as if gravity itself bent to its will.

“BUT I HAVE TO ADMIT, I DO ADMIRE YOUR PERSISTENCE. IT’S ALMOST ENDEARING. ALMOST.”

“You think I need your admiration?”

“NO, BUT YOU CLEARLY CRAVE SOMETHING,” it said, voice low and teasing.

“RECOGNITION, PERHAPS? OR MAYBE REDEMPTION? OH, WAIT—DON’T TELL ME YOU’RE HERE OUT OF DUTY. SUCH A NOBLE LITTLE THING. TOO BAD IT WON’T SAVE YOU.”

You clenched your teeth, your resolve hardening despite the exhaustion weighing you down. “Say whatever you want. I’ll still beat you.”

Hatred let out a sharp, delighted laugh. “OH, DARLING, I LOVE THAT YOU THINK THAT. IT MAKES THIS SO MUCH MORE ENTERTAINING.”

It leaned in, its impish face close enough for you to feel its presence like a suffocating fog.

“GO ON, THEN. SHOW ME WHAT YOU’VE GOT. OR ARE YOU FINALLY READY TO ADMIT THAT YOU’RE COMPLETELY, HOPELESSLY OUTMATCHED?”

Your heart pounded in your chest, but you stood your ground, defiance burning in your eyes. “I’m not giving up. Ever.”

“GOOD,” Hatred purred, its grin twisting into something darker.

“BECAUSE I’D HATE FOR THIS TO END TOO SOON. WATCHING YOU STUMBLE, HEARING YOU STRUGGLE—IT’S THE MOST FUN I’VE HAD IN AGES.”

Hatred’s words bit deep, but you refused to let them break you.

It wanted to see you falter, to see the fight drain from your spirit.

But you wouldn’t give it the satisfaction. Not now. Not ever.

“Keep laughing,” you said, raising your weapon once more. “I’ll wipe that grin off your face.”

Its laughter echoed again, shrill and mocking. “OH, I’LL BE HERE, DARLING. LAUGHING ALL THE WAY TO THE END.”