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miss-tc-nova · 3 months

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S/O Inexperienced in Relationships - TWST Housewardens

Not a day has gone by that I haven't been working on this. I'm SO sorry this took so long but I interpreted this in a few different ways and had to decide how I wanted to write it. But it's done!!!

Also, sorry for not using a fem!reader. I've apparently conditioned myself to write around that.

As for the question of my patience, I've answered that here, lol.

Premise: The Prefect is acting a bit odd

Words:

Riddle: 308

Leona: 357

Azul: 296

Kalim: 364

Vil: 351

Idia: 400

Malleus: 362

~~~~~

Riddle

Riddle has started to become suspicious.

You almost seem paranoid—second guessing every single move you make. The foods you choose, the clothes you wear, and apparently even the path you take to class. There is nothing that seems to get the green light the first time around.

At first he lets it go, seeing as it doesn’t interfere with his duties. But as the problem persists, it does begin to interfere in the relationship. This wasn’t a thing before you started dating.

He never thought he’d frown upon fastidiousness, but you checking and double checking that little book of yours has interrupted far too many activities and is beginning to irk him.

So he demands the book only to be stunned at the Queen’s rules written inside.

You had been spending hours upon hours trying to abide the Queen’s rules that Riddle knew by heart.

However, Riddle has recently come to terms with the idea that not everything has to be perfect—that people can just live. So while he admires your dedication to adhere to something he finds important, he’s concerned for your wellbeing.

When he questions why you would go to such lengths for this, you shyly, embarrassedly admit that you were afraid of losing him. You’ve never had many friends, let alone significant others. You didn’t really know what made a strong, enduring relationship.

But you knew the rules were important to him.

Riddle finally understands, warmth bleeding through his chest as a smile pulls at his lips.

“I don’t mind if you know the logistics of a relationship or not. What matters is that we build this one together. And while I admire your dedication to study the Queen’s rules, I would much rather you preserve your health. You’ll learn them in due time. Until then, please, just be yourself—my beautiful rose.”

~~~~~

Leona

Leona’s ire is growing.

This is not what he thought your relationship would be like.

Sure, he didn’t expect you to be throwing yourself at his lap or hanging off him, but to not even smile when he approaches you? If he didn’t know better, he’d say you weren’t even dating.

He’s starting to go out of his way to get a reaction out of you. Taking things out of your hands and pretending to examine them—sometimes returning them, sometimes not. Leaning against you, and if you manage to resist, he’ll just go limp until you crumple beneath his weight.

In some rare occasions, if you’re having a conversation with someone, he’ll just pick you up and walk off. Honestly, he’s impressed you haven’t snapped at him yet.

Eventually, while your attention is focused on studying, Leona snaps. He snatches the book from your hand and hurls it over the balcony of his room, leaving you stunned.

When you ask if he’s okay, he turns the question back on you. When you insist that there’s nothing wrong, he demands to know if you regret agreeing to go out with him.

Denying that accusation is not enough as Leona persists that you “don’t act like it.” Your retort turns out to be that you don’t know how to “act like it.”

His confusion finally gives you a moment to explain. You never had many relationships with anyone, including romantic kinds, so you have no idea what you’re doing in this relationship. All you really know is that Leona isn’t into clingy types so you tried your best to be the opposite.

It takes Leona a moment to soak in the information before he promptly tells you that you’re an idiot through a smirk.

“Look, I can’t say I’m a relationship expert but do what you want. Pretendin’ to be someone you think makes me happy is just stupid. And clearly not workin’ for ya, so you might as well go back to bein’ that person I asked out in the botanical gardens. Now get over here. We’re takin’ a nap. No, you can get your book later.”

~~~~~

Azul

Azul regrets his decision.

At first, he thought having you take on some of his responsibilities was a great idea. He didn’t even ask you to; you volunteered.

You can easily run the Lounge in his absence, scheduling shifts, obtaining stock, and whatever else that needed doing. Hell, he even trusts you to facilitate contracts on his behalf.

He’s thrilled to have the free time to look into new ventures.

Except, with all this free time, he starts to notice that you have none.

You’re always on the move, always writing, always busy. And it seems to be taking its toll. You look tired, the spark in your eyes gone.

Regret sinks in, mostly because he can’t remember the last time the two of you actually spent time together.

It takes several attempts to pry you away from your work to finally talk and Azul starts right off with reducing your workload. When you refuse, he persists, his suspicion growing until he finally asks why you’re being so stubborn.

You crack. The last thing you want is to lose him because you aren’t good enough. Friends, let alone partners, aren’t something you understand very well for lack of experience. Without that knowledge, you concluded that becoming as useful as you could was best.

A smile tugs at his lips as the man pulls you into his arms.

“My darling, I promise I’ll be just fine running things without you. But more importantly, I promise that nothing will change between us. And while most may find experience advantageous, I think I more enjoy the idea of us learning to be together, together. Now, I’ve taken the liberty of clearing both our schedules for the day. And I would enjoy nothing more than to spend it with you.”

~~~~~

Kalim

Kalim is…confused.

He loves you and he is absolutely basking in all the affection you shower him with.

But it doesn’t feel like you anymore.

Shortly after you began dating, you began fawning over him at every opportunity. Your arms were always wrapped around him and you always kissed his face when entering or leaving his presence.

The thing that really clued Kalim in to something being wrong was the constant smile on your face. You had a beautiful smile when it was genuine. But this smile is forced.

On top of that, you aren’t the kind of person to be this overly affectionate. It must be draining to keep up such an energetic façade. And the last thing Kalim wants is for someone close to him to pretend to be someone they’re not.

He mulls over how to ask you about something that you might find sensitive.

Then he catches you without your mask. You look tired and anxious. And he can’t hold it in anymore.

Ignoring your smile, Kalim gets to the point, asking point blank what’s wrong.

You deny at first, but he begs you not to lie to him. He cares too much and, after what happened with Jamil, he refuses to let someone else suffer in silence if there’s anything he can do.

So you tell him. You tell him that you were pretty much alone in your world, no friends or romantic partners. You don’t know how to act or what’s expected; you’re even more lost when it comes to dating a freaking prince. You can’t offer anything that he didn’t already have. All you have are your feelings for him.

Hearing your worries, Kalim drags you into his arms. Of course he’s happy that you would shower him with love, but he wants the real you, all the time.

“Mmm, I don’t really know what romantic relationships are like either. But I don’t think it really matters. It’s okay to not be happy all the time. I mean, I love seeing you smile, but I love you no matter how you feel. So please don’t pretend just for me. Oh, there it is—the most beautiful smile.”

~~~~~

Vil

Vil holds his tongue a bit too long.

Initially, he’s impressed by the sudden, significant effort you put into your health and appearance.

This included morning workouts, tracking every meal and drink, and spending hours making sure you look perfect for the day. Not a hair out of place nor a frayed hem—all the best you could do with what you had.

And Vil encouraged you. Yes, he noticed that you weren’t exactly thrilled with the new regime, but no one really is in the beginning. But he wanted to support you.

Yet the longer he observes your efforts, the more he realizes that this attempt to “better” yourself is having the opposite effect.

Sure, you’re more glam, but your emotional state hasn’t improved. In fact, you seem exhausted. You smile and act bright, but a true actor could see through it. He’s ashamed he let it get this far.

But he’s not letting it continue.

He catches you on the way to your next workout and gets to the point, asking why the sudden uptake of your rigorous routine.

You tell him you’d always meant to be healthier and just never had the motivation to. So he retorts asking what this new motivation might be.

This is where you hesitate, growing embarrassed. Vil’s gentle insistence coaxes your worries into the open. You were a loner in your home world so you have no idea how you managed to catch the eye of one of Twisted Wonderland’s biggest celebrities.

You gush about how perfect Vil is but you’re just you. You’re terrified to lose him, so all you could think to do is adopt Vil’s way of life.

A soft laughter escapes him as he presses a kiss to your head.

“While I admire your efforts to emulate my lifestyle, the last thing I want is for you to be miserable every day. You can make little changes; I’ll support your every step. But even if you don’t, you’re still perfect. And who has a better eye for perfection than I do? That’s right. You are my perfect, little gem..”

~~~~~

Idia

Idia may have missed his cue.

A new patch released on one of his games, so of course he was lost to the world.

Throughout the whole thing, you kept quiet, never interrupting his game as he spent endless hours hunched over his keyboard.

However, the moment that end credit scene concludes, the young man sits straight, rubs his eyes, and immediately notices a distinct lack of you.

Ortho informs him that you haven’t been around for a few days. Seeing as you spent nearly all your free time with Idia since you two started dating, that sounds suspicious.

When his messages receive no reply, he forces himself to trudge out of the dorm for the only person he’d brave society for.

In Ramshackle, he finds you doing homework. But as he opens his mouth to tell you about his fantastical adventure, he stops himself. Even as you look up at him, your mouth is shut, but even more, you look sad.

Awkward as hell, Idia sits beside you. He’s grateful for your courtesy of letting him enjoy his game, but even he admits that ignoring you was rude.

So he asks why you didn’t interrupt him.

Your shoulders shrug. Idia had been excited for this expansion. You’d never been in a relationship before, but it felt wrong to rain on his fun. Besides, you were used to being alone so you didn’t see a difference.

He stares, lips twisted shut. Then he stands and leaves, marching straight back to his dorm where he gets to work for the better part of two days—including shipping.

Then he returns to drag you back to Ignihyde. His cluttered room is a little more so—filled with empty boxes and wrappers. But right next to his desk is another, set up very similarly. Meanwhile, Idia himself fidgets, a tint of pink on his face.

“So, yeah, I was a major jerk for going AWOL and I totally deserve to be reemed. But I’d totally take being interrupted over tanking our relationship. ‘Sides, the OG you is way more valuable than any platinum. I know! Cringe! But, if you’re interested, maybe we can just party up instead? Yeah, it’s got the latest specs and I already downloaded the best RPG so we can play together. No worries, let Gloomurai show you how to stomp those other noobs! Why are you laughing? Oh geeze.”

~~~~~

Malleus

Malleus can tell there’s something, but isn’t entirely sure what.

The shift was minute, the slow withdraw.

All was as it should be when your relationship began. Malleus could not have been happier.

Then the creases worked their way across your face. Sure, you smiled with Malleus, but when conversation lulled, it vanished and your eyes turn downcast.

You always seemed lost in whatever concerns occupied your mind and, soon enough, even Malleus couldn’t regain your attention very easily.

Inevitably, he gains some clue when a song of praises of the great heir come exploding from Sebek’s mouth. As the freshman demeans another student for some trifling reason, the dragon distinctly notes your aura recoil. The floor has your attention and you’ve never looked so uneasy.

This worries him. All his life people had kept their distance, but to have the love of his life do so as well—he’s not sure he could stand it.

So the prince bides his time, waiting for a moment of privacy before his fear becomes unbearable. And with a heavy heart, he asks if his status has finally gotten to you.

You bashfully admit that it might have and he feels his heart cracking.

But you continue. Your experience in relationships is miniscule. You’ve only just begun to learn what it means to have friends but in romance your knowledge is woefully non-existent. The thought of maybe one day needing to lead a whole kingdom of people is terrifying. What if you mess it up?

Word by word, Malleus begins to realize that this isn’t about him or his status. He scorns himself for thinking you would care about that; nevertheless, it does ease his own worries.

Because he has nothing but faith in you.

“After everything that’s happened, it’s peculiar that you worry about such things. I may not be well versed in relationships myself, but I’m not concerned with whether or not you’re good for my kingdom. You’re good for me—perfect just as you are. And together we’ll learn and be an example of what it truly means to care for one another. Mm? Are you blushing? Was it something I said?”

~~~~~

#gender neutral reader #malleus draconia #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #riddle rosehearts #kalim al asim #idia shroud #vil schoenheit #twst x reader #novas requests

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itjazzbicch · 6 months

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Melting Hearts

Pairing: Husband!Bi Han x Wife!Fem Reader

Summary: Seeing Bi Han injured for the first time when he returns from his duties, the reader is the first to help him even though he decides to be stubborn at first, but slowly melts as the reader tends to his wounds and expresses her worries and love for him…

Requested by: @belle-oftheball34 (I hope you enjoy it!)

Warnings: mentions of blood, Bi Han is injured

Word Count: .7k

“Move, I’m fine!”

“But Grandmaster, your wound!”

Bi Han was so stubborn sometimes, returning to the temple, blood dried on the side of his head, holding his ribs.

“Bi Han-“ Seeing him like this had tears swelling in my eyes. I’d never seen him in such a state.

He always worried me when he went out for missions and coming back like this, refusing help? I wouldn’t allow him to limp around.

“Bi Han, come with me,” Everyone moved away from us as I took his hand, Bi Han’s eyes beaming at me:

“I said I’m f-fine-“

Stuttering on his words and groaning in pain, I didn’t care how much he wanted to tell himself that he was okay when he clearly wasn’t.

“Stop being so stubborn and let me help you,” I sniffled but was firm; He still decided limped away with me following, we got away from everyone’s sight and he finally dropped his tough act, letting me help him as I placed his arm around my shoulder, leading him to our bedroom.

It was easy to see that his ribs were bothering him, so I made sure to be as gentle as possible, sitting him down on the bed and helping him get out of his clothes.

“Stay here while I go get something’s to patch you up, okay?”

“Fine,” He sighed, groaning in pain, but stayed still.

I returned with some wraps for his ribs, gazes and a bowl of warm, soapy water to clean his cut.

Beginning to wrap his ribs carefully, he was fighting louder groans of pain, kissing the top of his head as I finished with that toughest part.

“I’m all done with your ribs. Now, be careful laying back. You can try to relax while I finish up, okay?”

Nodding and holding his breath, I delicately guiding him to his back on the bed, making sure the pillow was holding his head upright; he kept huffing, taking deep breaths and hissing at his ribs and I tried to be as helpful as I could, cooing and kissing the top of his head:

“I’m going to take good care of you. I know it hurts, but I have you, love.”

“I know,” He inhaled, closing his eyes as I took the warm, soapy rag, cleaning away the blood, making sure his wound was cleaned so it could begin to heal.

“Please be more careful the next time you know you’re going to face danger. You worry me till I’m sick, sometimes,” I whispered as I covered the cut, kissing it softly, “I know you’re strong, but I can’t help but worry about you.”

“They got lucky,” He growled, holding his ribs; I didn’t know exactly what happened, but regardless, he came back injured.

“I love you, Bi Han,” Connecting a deep gaze, I needed him to know how much I cared for him, ”And I hate seeing you this way. I know it’s hard given your responsibilities and the many challenges you face, but I worry every second you’re gone. I don’t ever want to lose you or see you hurt.”

The tears that were built up began to leak out, cleaning my face, quickly looking as he took my hand.

“You won’t lose me, dear,” He was confident in his words, squeezing my handle softly as he whispered, “I love you too.”

Bi Han didn’t express his feelings with words so directly. He didn’t say, ‘I love you’, often. I knew that he did, but hearing him say it always filled me with joy.

My tears faded with a small smile as he pulled me close to him, kissing me softly. I wanted to hold onto his kiss for as long as I could, but knew he needed rest, kissing one last time before I picked myself up, “I love you so much, Bi Han. You’ll be feeling better soon. I’ll make sure of it.”

2023 © itjazzbicch — do not repost or translate my work. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome

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woso-dreamzzz · 5 months

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Gone

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of the Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Your Momma is gone

Momma doesn't wake you up.

That's a little strange.

Momma almost always wakes you up.

You look at your window. Sun comes through your curtains and you frown. It isn't night time anymore but still Momma hasn't come to get you.

You shuffle out of your bed, feet touching your soft carpet. You grab your girl-swan from her place on your pillow and head out the door. You find Momma and Morsa's room without difficulty. Opening the door happens to be more of a problem but you manage to get it done.

Morsa is sitting up in bed, typing on her laptop.

You look at her.

She looks at you.

Momma's side is empty.

You frown.

Morsa smiles at you though and she taps the space in bed next to her. Morsa doesn't offer to let you in the Big Bed a lot so you hurry to take it, clambering under the covers and wiggling your way to her side.

She kisses your head and wraps an arm around you, pulling you in even closer.

You peer at her screen but it's got a lot of boring English on it so you glance back at Momma's side. "Where...Where Momma?" You reach out to touch her side. It's cold. Momma hasn't been here for a while.

"Momma's out, princesse," Morsa says," So it's a y/n and Morsa day."

Your crinkle appears as you think over her words. You've never had a y/n and Morsa day before. Back in Germany, everyday was a Momma and y/n day and now in England everyday is a y/n, Momma and Morsa day.

"No," You say suddenly," Not y/n and Morsa day. y/n, Momma and Morsa. Like everyday." You nod, satisfied with your solution.

Morsa cards her fingers through your hair. "Sorry, princesse, but Momma's already gone. She's meeting with her other friends, remember? She told you last night?"

You whimper. You definitely don't remember and you don't like being blindsided by this. You feel positively heartbroken at this revelation.

You've never had a day without Momma before, at least not one you've ever remembered. You're not entirely sure you know what to do without Momma.

"But...But..." You scramble to find a reason to get Momma home this instant. You feel triumphant when you finally think of one. "What about breakfast? Momma always makes breakfast."

Morsa looks at you fondly, a kiss pressed to your hair as she turns off her laptop and gets out of bed. "Silly, y/n," She says," Morsa will cook breakfast."

"You can't!"

She gives you a weird look. "Princesse, I made breakfast for myself all the time before you and your Momma moved in."

"You can't make mine!" You adjust your wording. "Momma makes my breakfast! Like always!"

Morsa pulls you into her arms as you tear up, eyes watering. "Oh, princesse, it's okay. It's alright."

It's not okay and it's not alright. Your little tears come into full blown sobs and you reach out for Momma's side of the bed like it would suddenly make her appear.

●～●～●～●～

Your sour mood persists throughout the few hours you've been awake and, frankly, Magda has seen nothing like it.

You were always such a happy kid, always excited to see her and sit with her but now, you don't seem to know what to do with yourself.

You had picked at your breakfast even though Magda made your favourite pancakes and said you could put as much syrup on it as you wanted.

You refuse to get dressed and you squirm away from her when she goes to brush your hair. She releases you when you get a little angry and you grab your swan toy and plop yourself down onto the floor by the door.

You pointedly ignore her as you stare at it.

She keeps an eye on you for a while before moving to quickly put on some laundry and put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher.

You don't move from your position for well over forty-five minutes and Magda grows worried.

She sits behind you and pulls you into her lap. The first indication that something is terribly wrong with you is when you ragdoll as she touches you, going completely boneless and limp.

The second indication is the way that you speak completely in Danish. At home, your speech is an amalgamation of Swedish and Danish, easily slipping between them with random bits of German and English to make sure you keep up with your understanding (Pernille is adamant that at some point in the future you will all end up back in Germany).

For you to slip completely into Danish is worry.

"Princesse," She says and then gets her third indication.

You don't react at all to her sweet nickname. If anything, you seem to recoil before you suck in a shuddery breath and say with shaky speech," When Momma coming home?"

Magda checks her watch. "You've got a lot of hours to wait, princesse. More than six."

"I wait," You insist but you feel incredibly shaky and worried about Momma. She's never not been there when you wake up before. "I-I wait for Momma."

Morsa nods at you, a hand running over your head. "Okay, princesse," She says and if you were properly listening, you would realise that she sounds a little bit sad," If you want me, I'll be watching tv. You come get me if you need a cuddle or something."

●～●～●～●～

You look positively miserable and Magda is running out of ideas. She has tried absolutely everything.

You didn't want to play with your toys or colour or watch your favourite show. If anything, the longer Pernille was away, the worse you seem to get.

Your shoulders hunch over and you slouch, lips wobbling.

Magda's just coming back from the bathroom when she sees you burst into tears. There's no lead up to it, just full on hysterical sobs.

"Oh, princesse, oh." She scoops you up quickly, pacing the length of the hall while bouncing you, something she used to do back when you were a baby.

It soothes you a little but mostly makes you want your Momma.

You sob and you sob and Magda flounders as she tries to get you to calm. Your hand fists her top and your tears continue even as she promises you the world to get you to stop crying.

"Momma," Is your broken hearted response," Wan-Wan' Momma."

"I know." Magda feels halfway to tears herself. "I want Momma too."

You end up practically catatonic on her chest.

Magda lies down on the sofa, propped up against the armrest. You end up calming down by yourself but it takes a long while and you're still whimpering slightly as you wipe your nose on her top.

"It's okay, it's okay," Magda repeats. In the back of her mind, she knows that this will need to be addressed by her and Pernille tonight. Your meltdown shouldn't have happened and Magda thinks that it's partially her fault.

You had lived with Pernille for all your life, had attached onto Pernille more because Magda could only be present sometimes. It makes sense that her sudden disappearance today had thrown you into a tailspin.

Magda feels terrible though, even after she's rationalised it, because she can't give you what you want, which is Pernille. She can do nothing but let you tire yourself out, going limp in her arms as soft hands card through your hair.

When the front door, finally opens, you dissolve into a fresh wave of sobs - this time, because you can see Momma.

"What's wrong, princesse?" She coos at you, endlessly confused because you don't look hurt or sick and seem perfectly fine to lay in Magda's arms.

"She missed you," Magda replies, standing up and passing you to Pernille," She's been hysterical all day." Magda feels herself getting tearful just like you as her vision waters. "And-And nothing I did helped!"

Pernille takes you easily and reaches an arm out to cradle Magda's face. "It's okay," She says," She's still adjusting. You did nothing wrong."

"Feels like it."

"Do you need a minute?" Pernille asks.

Magda nods, excusing herself. She reaches the bedroom and bursts into tears.

Pernille has assured her time and time again that she's a good mother, a great mother but right now, it doesn't feel like it. Settling you down and comforting you should be second nature but it just makes her feel awkward and strung through with worry.

She stares at herself in the mirror and angrily wipes away her tears.

The door opens just as Magda has gotten a hold of herself.

Pernille is there and so are you (of course). You still a look a little teary eyed from where you're on Pernille's hip, hand clutched tightly around the collar of her shirt.

"See?" Pernille says as she bounces you lightly," Morsa is right there. She hasn't disappeared."

Your furrowed brow relaxes and you reach your other arm out for Magda. "Morsa," You say," With me and Momma." Your order is slightly comical. "For y/n, Momma and Morsa day. Like always."

Magda approaches you. Your hand catches onto her collar like your other one is clutching Pernille's. "Hey, princesse," She keeps her voice low and comforting," Are you feeling alright, now?"

"Better," You confirm," 'Cause Momma is back now and you are here." You nod firmly. "For cuddles in the Big Bed."

"Cuddles in the big bed?" Pernille laughs," I don't remember agreeing to that."

"Morsa said so," You say decisively," For when you weren't here and I was crying. Morsa say that we can have cuddles in the Big Bed and whatever I want for dinner."

You're right.

Magda did say that along with hurried promises for cake and ice cream and a baby swan so your girl-swan could be a Momma-swan. She kind of hopes that you only remember her promise for big bed cuddles and dinner.

"I did promise her," Magda says with a smile.

"Well, in that case," Pernille laughs," Let's get into the big bed and see what we can order for dinner.

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #The Big Adventures Universe

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juiles · 8 months

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Sticking out sucks.

Summary: You are taken in by the Avengers at 13 and the first four months are hell until after one fateful mission, Wanda and Natasha really step up the moment you need parent figures the most.

Age: 13

Warnings: blood, gunshot wounds, broken bones, fever, fever haze, hydra, red room, a little mean Nat but she comes back quick, asshole Tony mentioned, surgery drugs

Important questions!!!

Type: angst, hurt/comfort

Here is the masterlist!!

Here is the request form!!

pic credit to the amazing jaylerdoodles

———————————————————————-

I sat in a daze, my world tilting just slightly as i listened to Steve ramble about something after a rough mission. Tony had messed up but somehow got everyone else to believe it had been me. Now here i sat, staring at the table, my hands folded, placed there. I gently picked at the skin around my thumb.

This is how it’s been for 4 months. 4 months of someone messing up on a mission and then me getting blamed as the youngest member. 4 months ago, Steve rescued me from a Hydra cage at 13. I’ve spent half my life being raised by Dreykov to be a perfect widow but at 8, Hydra got a hold of me. Turned me into the perfect weapon. Years of abuse and torture makes you older than you are. Something that Natasha and Wanda don’t like. They’ve never liked me.

I squirmed in my seat, wanting to escape the yelling. As soon as he let us all go, i stood from my chair and made my way up to my room concealing a limp. As soon as my door closed behind me, I grabbed the first aid kit i kept under my bed and changed out of my dirty, bloody suit and into a tank and bike shorts. The gauze on my thigh was already bright red, despite only being on for a couple of hours.

Slowly I peeled it back and winced at the gaping bullet hole. I fished around gently pulling the bullet out, knowing it was a very shallow wound, i gave it a few stitches and wrapped it up tight with a sterile gauze and some ointment. Looking down, I sighed and gently got up. I cleaned the blood off my leg and took a look out my door, creaking it open slightly. It seemed empty and the bucket and mop i would need to clean the blood up is only a few feet away. I glanced down at my bandaged leg then back at the bucket that i could see. Using my powers would only alert Wanda so I slipped out of my room.

I limped over to the bucket and grabbed it, accidentally knocking over the mop in the process. I flinched and whipped around to run back to my room but with the bullet wound, a concussion and a few broken ribs, I got dizzy and instead of running to my room, i fell face first on to the floor, i managed to catch myself before i could hurt myself but at the same time i heard a bedroom door open and could basically feel Natasha rolling her eyes at me as Wanda gasped.

“Don’t baby her Wands.” She cooly said to the girl standing beside her. “She tripped after waking us up. She’ll be fine.” I winced as I crawled up the wall. I looked over my shoulder to see them standing in their bedroom, Natasha leaning against the door frame, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised, Wanda holding one of her arms, her face twisted slightly in concern.

“Why is there blood on your leg y/n?” I heard a small whisper before i glanced down at my leg and winced seeing blood streaming from the gunshot wound, the stitches must have opened when i fell.

“It-it’s nothing…” I muttered and tried to mask my limp to make my way back to my room but was stopped by a red wisp. I glanced back over my shoulder to see Wanda stalking towards me, I flinched out of habit when she got to me. She turned me around by grabbing both my shoulders and a gasp echoed around the hallway when she saw the red gauze, the blood trickling down my leg.

“Y/n! It’s clearly not nothing!” I took a glance up at her and almost immediately melted when I saw the look of pure fear and care in her eyes but pulled myself together. “It is! I’ll just stitch it up and then clean up my mess.”

“Baby you’re not stitching anything up. You and I are heading down to see Bruce to get you checked over.” I froze and turned properly to face her. “Since when do you care?!” I snapped making her flinch slightly before she closed her eyes and took a deep breath before looking back at me. “I’ve always cared love. I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to show you it but I can’t let you do this on your own.” I sucked in my breath and closed my eyes.

“I didn’t do it… Tony wasn’t paying attention and I had to jump in front of him. He knocked the switch over, I’m sorry… i’m sorry…” I could feel my chest tighten and i tried to push Wanda’s arms off me. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry!”

Wanda simply pulled me closer in her arms and slid down the wall, pulling my head to lay flat against her chest so I could hear her heartbeat. I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I didn’t notice Natasha crouching down in front of me or feel her hands rubbing my back until my chest started to loosen and the knot in my throat slowly released, i gasped in breaths which merely just cause me to sob harder due to the broken ribs. “Baby breath. Take a deep breath. Come on baby. Follow my breathing okay?”

I could feel myself calm down slightly as I listened to Wanda’s heart beat, feeling her fingers massaging my scalp while Natasha drew shapes on my back lightly. My eyes slowly drooped as my fingers tangled into her sleep shirt. “No baby. You can’t sleep yet. Stay with us okay?” I groaned sleepily and fluttered my eyes open to look up at her with a slight pout on my face. “I’m sleepy…” I muttered sniffling slightly.

“I know sweet girl but Wanda is right. I’m going to pick you up and we’re gonna bring you down to Bruce okay?” Natasha murmured shifting me into her arms, making me look up at her. I smiled sleepily before breaking into a coughing fit. “I feel gross…” I felt a cool hand on my forehead before Wanda cooed. “Oh darling you’ve got a fever… you’re sick too…”

“You look like me Natty…” I mumbled staring at her green eyes. “I wish you could be my mama… but you don’t like me… i’m sorry for whatever i did…”

“Darling… you did nothing wrong and I’m so sorry I ever made you feel like you did… but i’m here now okay?” She said placing me on the bed, Bruce walking up next to us. I smiled slightly up at her giggling slightly. “Okay mama…” I muttered, to out of it to even realize what i had said.

Wanda’s POV

Both Natasha and i struggled to understand why a 13 year old needed to be on the team. She’s way too young. We haven’t treated her the best, hoping she would quit. Keep her safe. That was until today.

When i heard the bang on the floor in the hallway, i got up and opened the door leaning into Natasha. I watched y/n scramble to get up and i saw the blood trickling down from a bandage wrapped around her leg. I gasped, instantly frowning when Natasha scoffed.

Honestly the next few minutes were a haze, the next thing I knew Nat had a fever hazed y/n in her arms and I was checking her forehead. “Oh darling you’ve got a fever… you’re sick too…”

“You look like me Natty…” Y/n mumbled slightly staring up at the woman. “I wish you could be my mama… but you don’t like me…” My heart shattered at that, we had been so awful to this little girl that she thought we didn’t like her. Her little pout breaking my heart more. “I’m sorry for whatever i did…”

“Darling… you did nothing wrong and I’m so sorry I ever made you feel like you did… but i’m here now okay?” Natasha said through her tears as she brushed the hair out of y/n’s face. “Okay mama…” She mumbled before she fell asleep. Bruce quickly shuffled us out of the room. Natasha plopped down in a chair in the waiting room with wide eyes filled with tears. “Natty?”

“She called me mama… she- god i messed up Wandz… she’s so young… she doesn’t deserve any of this…” Natasha broke down, i quickly pulled her into my arms as she buried her face into the crook of my neck.

“We’ll talk to her when she’s more awake… for now shen she gets out of surgery she’s going to need us to support her… she’s got a gunshot wound to her leg, some broken ribs, a concussion and a nasty flu.” Natasha stiffened. “She got shot… how did none of us notice?” I muttered as Natasha sat up slightly and cupped my cheeks. “We were stupid but we’ll do better Wandz.”

We both looked up when the door opened. “She’s fine. She’s awake and still a little loopy.” Bruce said with a small smile. “She called me Brucey.” He chuckled slightly. “She’s sleepy but asking for her ‘guardian angels’ by the way.”

We all let out a soft chuckle and Nat and I made our way into the room to see y/n trying to rip the IV out of her arm. “No baby…” I mumbled taking her hands into mine. “You need to keep them in for now okay?” I looked at her face and her big green eyes looked up at me, brimmed with tears.

“I don’t like it…” She mumbled. I cooed kissing her knuckles gently. “I know but it’ll help you get better okay?” A small whimper came out of her mouth before she turned to Natasha.

“Mama… hi…” She giggled sleepily up at Natasha who smiled softly and she brushed her fingers over the girls cheek bone. “Hi detka… you aren’t going to remember any of this tomorrow huh? Well i’ll soak it in while i can hmm?” She asked softly sitting next to the girl.

“Mama don’t leave…” Natasha chuckled.

“I’m not detka…” Y/n scooted over slightly looking up at Nat with the biggest puppy dog eyes I had ever seen. “Mama cuddle…?” Natasha hesitated, making the girls eyes water. “Mama…?”

Natasha instantly laid down next to the girl and pulled her small frame into her arms petting down the auburn hair. “Mamas here detka…” I sat down beside the two of them and started playing with her hair. She glanced up at me and smiled sleepily. “Hi momma…” She mumbled burying into my hand.

“Hi malyshka. It’s time to go back to sleep for a little okay?” She nodded a little and buried into Natasha, arms wrapping around mine. I chuckled and looked at Nat who stared at the girl in her arms, her eyes filled with love.

“Goodnight Detka. I love you.”

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junggunz · 2 months

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lovin' on me |🔞

summary: I'm vanilla, baby. I don't like no whips and chains. cw: fembodied!reader | SMUT | pwp | fluff if you squint | sinu + breeding and daddy kink | jerry + size kink, sprinkling of service dom energy | jake + fwb to lovers | all characters featured are 18+ wc: 2.9k an: FIRST REQUEST FOR BIG BABY JERRY AHHHH. i couldnt help myself and added in some other daddies as a treat hehehe HAPPY VALENTINES DAY.

“I'LL CHOKE YOU BUT I AIN'T NO KILLER, BABY”

──★ ˙ ̟SINU HAN

Sinu lives for romance— of course he went all out on Valentine’s Day for you. From the little things like getting your shower started for you before you woke up so you didn’t have to wait for the water to warm up, putting your towel in the dryer then bringing it to you when you finished, and even ordering your favorite breakfast so you could start your day in the best mood. It’s hard to pick your favorite part of the day when it’s packed full of so many loving gestures that make you feel like you’re on top of the world.

Especially when it’s at the end of the day and you have Sinu rutting up into you and letting you feel every sweet inch of his thick cock filling you. The missionary position with him is the farthest thing from boring when every single one of his touches exudes so much passion. Hands glued to your hips while he pushes into you over and over, long hair disheveled as his head falls back with a honeyed moan at the sensation of your walls squeezing him so good; the two of you lost count of what round you were on now. So wrapped up in the embrace of pleasure, his sounds were starting to rival yours in volume.

“F-fuck, baby, you feel so fuckin’ good!” Sinu rasps out, heavy lidded eyes drifting down to your point of connection and watching the way your folds squeeze around the tip of his cock each time he draws his hips back and pushes back into you. “I could do this all night, you’re not getting tired are you?”

Given how eagerly your sloppy little hole was sucking up his length with even just the slightest of movements, it seemed like your body had become dependent on his touch; several orgasms in and you felt like there was no end in sight.

“Sinu, I’m so full…” You barely get out between little moans, your voice starting to go and dropping to a volume so quiet it was almost drowned out by the sinful slapping of skin on skin and the squelching wetness seeping out of you. “If we keep going like this, you’re going to end up a daddy for sure.” You warn with a weak laugh.

It’s a joke but it gets Sinu’s thrusts to become less sensual and more jerky; the pace not picking up speed and only increasing in intensity. You don’t know what causes the change in demeanor until you notice where his gaze had been fixated on. Lowering your eyes, you see his cock glistening with a mix of your juices with no clear demarcation of where you began and where he ended.

“Oh god, yes, I wanna be a daddy.” Sinu groans, pushing his length as deep as he can into you; the tip stiffly kissing your cervix before you feel warm ribbons of his seed adding to the existing mess inside you.

His actions don’t stop there. Absolutely not. Being selfish was simply not a part of his prerogative. Shifting the angle of his thrusts slightly, his cock presses into the spongy soft spot within you that he had been well acquainted with. With a few calculated and carefully paced pushes into you, it doesn’t take much for your thighs to start trembling and your walls to start seizing up around his cock; squeezing so tightly it tempts him into spilling inside of you again.

It’s a flurry of paradoxical sensations overwhelming your body; you feel like you’re on clouds but at the same time, your limbs are so limp and heavy. This orgasm is more intense than all the other ones; the pleasure burns so hot in your core it almost hurts and causes tears to roll down your cheeks and has you gasping about how good it feels. As Sinu helps you ride out the high, his strokes slow to a snail’s crawl and he’s gently kissing away the tears that escaped your eyes.

“You took it so well, baby. Did you like that?” He whispers softly.

“Yeah, it was great.” You say, blinking heavily up at him as the bleary filter over your vision dissipates. “But now I’m wondering if it’s being called daddy or the idea of getting me pregnant is what got you so riled up.” You giggle.

Sinu laughs along with you, leaning in to nuzzle his face against your neck.

“Aw, baby, you know everything about you turns me on.” He replies smoothly; however you did pose a valid point and it had Sinu wondering which one of the two excited him more. There was plenty of time to figure out, but for now, he would let you rest.

──★ ˙ ̟JERRY KWON On Valentines Day, you and Jerry had planned to take the next step in your relationship. Everyone who knew him was well aware of his teddy bear like personality that contrasted his outward appearance. Even with that in mind, you still didn’t know what to expect from him in the bedroom.

Big hands wander over the soft curves of your body: rough palms with a tender touch. Jerry’s fingers are significantly thicker than your own when you feel them teasing the slick ring of your entrance and it drives you crazy.

“Need you inside,” you whine.

“Just let me prep you, baby, I don’t wanna hurt you.” Jerry murmurs softly, two of his fingers exploring the heat of your slick walls in search of your sweet spot. “You can’t even take the whole thing like this…” He hums, focused on the task at hand and his other hand keeping a firm hold on your hip to prevent you from squirming away.

As impatient as you were, Jerry was right.

Earlier, you had felt the hard outline of his cock through his pants and caught a preview of what was to come; your mind a whirlwind of thoughts about how it would feel to have him filling you up. Despite his fingers carefully spreading apart your tight walls to prepare you, there was no way he was going to be an easy fit— but the anticipation of a pain laced pleasure had you getting even more excited around his digits.

A calloused thumb presses against your swollen clit in tandem with the fingers stimulating your insides and the pleasure warming the pit of your tummy has you begging.

“Jerry, please…I need more. You promised you would give it to me.” You whimper, needily bucking your hips against his hand.

He’s conflicted. He wants to please you. He wants to share this moment of intimacy with you. But even the idea of hurting you on accident terrifies him. That feeling only increases when you take matters into your own hands literally and hastily strip him out of his clothes before settling beneath him once again; the hot length of his cock settling on the outside of your pussy as he slides it over your folds. You’re so wet, it doesn’t take long until the underside of his shaft is thoroughly coated in your arousal but you’re also just so small beneath him. Maybe if the size difference between the two of you wasn’t so dramatic, he’d no problem treading the waters.

Teeth sinking into his lower lip nervously, Jerry looks down at you while continuing to glide his cock through your folds. Back and forth, the heavy tip nudges your clit with a delicious friction every time. Forward then back again, your wanton expression finally gets to him and he stops with his dick laid out against your stomach; pulsing and leaking precum onto your skin.

“Are you ready?” Jerry asks quietly, a light blush warming up his cheeks.

“Yes, please let me feel you inside.” You mewl, canting your hips up toward him and encouraging him to mount you.

Clammy palms splayed on the back of your thighs, Jerry spreads them and pushes your thighs closer to your chest, seeing your folds absolutely soaked and swollen for him. The tip of his dick lingers around your fluttering entrance before pushing inside, just barely stretching your pussy around the thick head.

“Ah—fuck—” You both moan at the same time, breathing catching in your throat at the long awaited contact.

The first inch slips in and you can already feel the sting of his cock stretching your walls open. Jerry is shuddering and you’re whining; the feeling is too good and he’s grappling with his own selfish desire to push all the way in with a single thrust. Babbling about how tight and wet you are around his cock, each breathy word is said with so much pleasure that you find yourself deriving your own enjoyment from providing him with this ecstasy. It makes your insides weep and expand to take more of him, urging him to sink even deeper into your sopping wet cunt.

By the time Jerry’s fully embedded within you, your insides are so tight and sensitive around him, you can feel each throb of his cock against your walls; even if it hurts a little you need to feel him move. And at this point, all of his anxiety has dissipated and it’s like he was primed for your instructions; listening to every single one of your pleas and delivering them with gusto. His body is desperate for your guidance, knowing that it would bring both of you to a new realm of pleasure.

“Jerry, give me the whole thing.” You pant, noticing the remaining inch or two that wasn’t glistening with your juices.

And of course, he obliges; you take it all the way in spite of the pinching feeling that has tears pricking your eyes and your toes curling. Guilt washes over Jerry when he sees the tears beading along your lash line but at this moment, he’s feeling too good to acknowledge anything else. The little devil on his shoulder tells him that you were the one who asked for it so he shouldn’t pay any mind to your jaw hanging open with tiny choked out gasps escaping with each undulating movement of his hips.

“A-are you— are you okay?” Jerry stammers, trying to get a grip and tear away from the lust frenzied state threatening to take over him.

“Feels so good. Keep going.” You encourage him, locking your ankles around his waist and pulling him balls deep into your tight heat.

Limbs wrapped around him, you draw him closer for a kiss; successfully quieting any lingering worries about him hurting you. He had promised to give you whatever you wanted today; and fear was holding him back from fulfilling his duties. Luckily for the two of you, the night was still young and there was plenty of time for Jerry to give you the Valentine's Day you deserved.

──★ ˙ ̟JAKE KIM

A friends with benefits situation is the last thing Jake would have wanted; but if it was what he would have to endure in order to get some semblance of intimacy with you, then fine. You say you’re not romantic and don’t wanna deal with the expectations and disappointments of a relationship and all it does is make Jake want to try and change your mind.

Valentine’s Day is just another day out of the year, so it doesn’t mean much to you when you call Jake to come over. It totally slips your mind that this holiday was the reason there was so much lingerie on sale at the department stores. And any possible implications of you wearing lingerie when Jake shows up at your place are the last thing on your radar.

“Jake, don’t leave so many hickeys.” You whine, feeling the way his lips remained consistently latched on to the sensitive skin around your throat and clavicle; teeth scraping the surface every so often.

“Why not? You don’t want anyone to know that you weren’t alone on Valentine’s Day?” He laughs softly into your neck while his hands remain glued to your hips and gently rocks your body on his lap; relishing in the feeling of your walls hugging his shaft.

A groan tickles the back of your throat, unsure if it was because of Jake’s comment or the fact your pussy was so tight around him, you can feel every throb and pulse of his cock inside of you. Ignoring his question, you let out a shaky sigh as you pick up your hips until just the tip of his cock remained inside before you sink back down on him, taking every inch to the hilt and feeling his full balls press up against your ass.

“You wore lingerie for me, you can’t tell me that you forgot what day it was.” Jake teases, lips leaving the column of your throat as he looks at you with a cheeky smirk, his fingers dancing along the lace edge of the sheer chemise you had on. The dainty and airy fabric fluttered with each of your movements, adding to the already stimulating visual of you needily fucking yourself on Jake’s cock.

“Jake, just shut up so I can focus.” You mutter, planting both your hands on his chest before you push him to lay flat on the bed, now riding him harder and faster as you selfishly sought out your own release.

As much as you hate to admit it, the flush that warms your neck and face isn’t just from the physical exertion of bouncing on his rather impressive length for so long; it’s partially because your subconscious desires regarding your relationship with Jake were creeping to the surface. It wasn’t an intentional decision for you to buy lingerie and wear it when you invited him over on the most romantic day of the year. The last thing you wanted was to give him any impression that somewhere between the late night hookups and platonic lunch dates when neither of you wanted to eat alone, something akin to a crush had developed.

But it was too late. Things were working in Jake’s favor as his patience had paid off and he had finally been allowed past the high walls that guarded your heart. Every time the two of you had sex, he felt so far away from you—being balls deep inside you couldn’t close the distance created by your detached aura—but tonight, you showed him a more vulnerable side. From the way you get why when he tells you how pretty you are to how you’re more vocal about your needs and even the way you were riding him exudes more intimacy than usual. After spending so many evenings rutting into you from behind in your favorite position, just the sight of your pretty face contorted into an expression of unadulterated pleasure has Jake moaning softly.

His chest heaves with elation, skin lightly glistening under the low lighting of your bedroom as he staves off his climax; letting you use him until you’re satisfied. Two orgasms in already, your pussy had made a mess all over his lap but it seemed like you had no intention of stopping any time soon.

“Go out with me.” He abruptly blurts out, the slight strain in his voice becoming more evident when he feels your walls pulsing around him.

“Don’t say things like that so suddenly.” You pant, your pace unfaltering as another zip of pleasure starts to make your body tingle and your third orgasm draws closer.

Letting out a small chuckle of amusement at your stubbornness, Jake grabs both your wrists off his chest, pulling your arms behind your back to keep you in place as he starts thrusting up into you deeper and faster than before. Feet firmly planted into the plushness of your mattress, his cock digs deep into your sopping cunt and gives you the rush you craved. Being fucked like this renders you into a headspace that makes it impossible to think clearly; both you and Jake know this, so he repeats his declaration.

“I mean it. Let’s start dating for real.” He grunts, sweat beading along his brow as he tries not to get too lost in the soft warmth that was your body and the sinful silkiness of your walls gripping his dick. “I can’t play these emotional games with you forever…”

Eyes squeezing shut, you hear his words but any semblance of a response is nonexistent in your brain. All you can focus on is your body tensing at his pace that was getting progressively rougher as the two of you raced toward the edge of ecstasy. Each thrust seems wetter and sloppier than the last when your walls gush around him as he ultimately carries you to your finish once again. Body wavering slightly as he continued to pummel into you from below, you crack your eyes open to get a look at him and you can see the look of adoration that lays beneath all the lust. And in that moment, it’s impossible to deny him any longer.

“F-fine…we can try dating.” You try your best not to cringe at the words but once you finish speaking, you can already feel Jake’s cock throbbing at the sound of your agreement as he releases all his pent up frustration into the condom.

From that point on, Jake promised to himself that he would try his absolute hardest to make every day—and every Valentine’s Day specifically— special for you so you wouldn’t have to fear love.

#lookism x reader #lookism smut #sinu han x reader #sinu han smut #sinu han scenarios #jerry kwon x reader #jerry kwon smut #jerry kwon scenarios #jake kim x reader #jake kim smut #jake kim scenarios #junggunz.txt

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chronicbeans · 1 year

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Wally and a Puppeteer Reader

I was just kinda thinking to myself... What would happen if he somehow got into contact with one of the puppeteers working on the show? Idk I just like to write what I find interesting. Lol.

TW: Obsessive Behaviors, Mentions of Stalking, Idol Worshipping

🍎 The first time Wally realized what is going on, he's going to panic. Yes, Wally has been aware of the fact that he is a puppet, but he never really understood what that meant. He has always just seen it as a name for what species he is. Kind of like how humans are called humans and that caterpillars are called caterpillars. Just a word that had no implications on his free will.

🍎 However, when he sees the outside of his world... the bright lights setting the stage, the crowd of people all running around and setting things up, he is terrified. These... creatures... look so similar to his neighbor that he has seen every now and again. The only difference is that they are usually smaller and, compared to some of these versions he now sees, have no fluff on their face.

🍎 Then, he sees YOU. He recognizes you. He's seen you in the background, behind one of the smaller creatures he calls his neighbor. You sometimes even come by to check on them. What are you doing here? He doesn't know, but you are an immediate comfort amongst the strange, unfamiliar faces... Even if he doesn't know you.

🍎 Next thing he knows, you are picking him up in your warm arms and carrying him somewhere. He watches as his neighborhood slips away from him, the horrifying realization that his world is just a small little stage in it of itself. His neighbors all being taken by their own strange creatures to their own little areas.

🍎 On your way to wherever you are taking him, someone happens to pop in. Complimenting you on your love for the little puppet in your arms, the excellent care you give him when handling him, and telling you that you are surprisingly good at puppeteering for a newbie on the set. You're going to make an amazing replacement for the last guy.

🍎 Wally cannot believe his ears. What's a puppeteer? This is the first time he's heard of that word. It isn't until the odd fellow asks you to make Wally say his iconic line that he realizes what is happening. You suddenly maneuver him, making a poor impression of his voice as you force him to say "You think I'm the absolute most? You're the most to me, neighbor!"

🍎 Yes... the situation is all coming together in his mind. You must be the one behind everything! All that he does and all that he says is in your hands. All that his friends do and say should be in your hands too, right? It would make sense... If you can control him, then you can control the others!

🍎 Soon enough, you've brought Wally to a room with a little tote box near the corner. You begin checking him over, looking for rips or tears, before wrapping him in a plastic bag. Then, you place him in the box, making sure he isn't squished at all.

🍎 Left alone with his thoughts, Wally thinks about everything that has happened. This all feels too real to be a dream, as much as he sort of wishes it was. In fact, it feels more real than his life before this. He must do something, anything, but he doesn't know why. He just has to do something other than sitting in this bag inside a tote.

🍎 So, after a few hours of trying to move, he finally succeeds. He's gotten himself out of the plastic bag... Then, after a few more minutes, he hears someone return to the room. Lying limp, he watches as you open the box. Your eyes grow wide as you look down at him. You turn your head to look around the room, before crying out "Hey... Dave... Did you mess with Wally?" "Nah, (Y/N)! Why? Is something wrong?" With that, you leave to go talk to this... "Dave".

🍎 Of course, he follows. Very slowly, since he isn't used to walking in this... odd way. His legs feel weak. Like they are filled with stuffing. It is a strange feeling. He is also so incredibly cold. Why is he cold, yet, you are so warm?

🍎 He find you talking to another one of your kind. You and the other strange creatures that make up your species seem so frightened by him moving. Why is it okay for you to make him move, but not for him to move on his own? Why are they assuming someone tampered with him?

🍎 You seem most worried. How... introguing. You seem so kind compared to the rest of these odd creatures! So benevolent in your worries. The others talk about him like some sort of object, but you seem to genuinely have an attachment to him!

🍎 He wants to learn more about your kind - no... YOU in specific. He could care less about the others. You are all that really matters at the moment. If he is wrong about his assumption that you control all in his world, be it that others of your kind control his friends or whatnot, he will deal with that. For now, he can watch from a distance. When you all go, he'll be sure to learn the layout of this new land he is in. When he does, he can find you wherever you are in here. He can find out what you love and hate, what makes you tick, what makes you sad.

🍎 That sounds like a wonderful thought to him... maybe, if he leaves little gifts for you, you'll be sure to make everyday of his good. Happy parties with all of his friends, no bumps or bruises on himself or his friends, no rainy days that makes Home sad and cold... If it takes giving gifts, he'll gladly do so! You are so warm and benevolent, he would do so even if it never became fruitful for making his world perfect.

#welcome home #wally darling x reader #wally darling #welcome home arg

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stardustloserdoll · 4 months

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HIHIHI

I JUST WNATED TO ASK AND SEE IF YOU COULD MAKE A LONG? TOM KAULITZ SMUT?

okay so i have an idea,

if tom gets really really jealous of the f!readers relationship with her old friend she sees somewhere (you pick) and they like kiss eachothers cheeks and tom gets really jealous and like when they get home its like angry sex but VERYYYYY ANGRY and tom is dominant and the reader is like overstimulated and other stuff😭😭

HIII!! YESSSS, i'm sorry if i make my smuts too short guys i promise i'll improve 😩

mine

female reader

“y/n?” i stopped talking with tom and saw my old friend alex coming up to us. "alex? hey! how are you!" i smiled, standing up from the table, embracing him. "it's been so long." i laughed as i pulled away, as we both placed a kiss on each others cheeks. "i know, how have you been!" as we both continued talking i felt an arm wrap around me pulling me closely. "hey babe who's this."

"oh tom! this is my friend alex, we go way back." tom stepped forward, his grip strong on my waist. "tom, i'm her boyfriend." he responded going to shake his hand. "hey nice to meet you." alex responded shaking toms hand.

"i think y/n and i should be going." tom smiled pulling me by my waist "oh.. okay sorry alex. it was nice seeing you, bye!" i yelled as tom pulled me away walking fast. "what was that about tom!" i whispered, trying to pull myself from his tight grip. "you think i didn't see you kissing his cheek y/n." tom said, his jaw clenched as he took out the keys. "it was nothing like that tom!" he held onto my arm and looked at me with a serious look on his face. "wait till we get home y/n."

"come on babe you can take it." tom smirked, grabbing my hips, as he pounded into me. tom looked down between our joined bodies, licking his lips at the sight of me making a mess on his cock.

“think alex can fuck you this good? hm?,” he snarles, snapping his hips into me, grabbing my face to look up at him. i shook my head "say it." i whimpered trying to force out words "n-no only you tom." "only i fuck you this good, fuck. you're mine." my mouth falls open as i feel my cunt squeeing around him. “fuckk.. gonna cum again schatz?” tom groaned out, i nodded desperately, “tom, please..fuck. i’m so close!”

tom scoffs and rolls his eyes, his hands squeezing my waist, as he snapped his hips harder into me, sending me over the edge. my body trembling as i came, "tom no more.." he laughed, “say you're mine y/n.” he growled halting his movement. "m' yours tom.." i cried out, throwing my head back. "good girl."

with a swift roll of his hips, quickened his pace, hitting me in all the right spots. a little smirk on his lips as his tongue stuck out slightly, playing with his piercing. my body feeling more limp as he pounded into me. “making such a mess." tom laughed as he leaned down to kiss my neck. "gonna cum tom.." i dug my nails into his back "come for me baby, you can do it." feeling my orgasm wash over me for another time, small whimpers coming out of his mouth.

tom releasing soon after, his cum shooting in me as he snapped his hips one final time, stopping his movements. his body falling on top of me as he kept his dick inside of me, our chests raising and falling rapidly. as tom pulled away he pulled out, running his fingers through my hair. "you did so good" tom whispered as placed a kiss on my forehead.

#tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel x you #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz x y/n #tom kaulitz x you #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz smut

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amica-aenigmata-naboo · 4 months

Text

Help

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 1K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: Haarlep using Y/N form, Astarion and Karlach being heroes, Astarion being amazing (as always), hurt/comfort, fluff

-------------------

You had been distant for weeks. Hardly talking to him, telling him you needed time to yourself. He was trying to be understanding but it seemed like you wanted to be anywhere but near him. He couldn’t think of anything he’d done to make you act this way, and it was starting to scare him.

“Darling, may I come in?” Astarion asked from the front of your tent. He could barely see you, curled up in a dark corner of the tent.

You didn’t respond, he assumed you were asleep. He pulled a blanket over you quietly before he noticed your eyes. They were cracked open a bit, bloodshot and devoid of emotion.

“Little love?” He cooed, a gentle hand caressing your face. You flinched away.

That made his undead heart break. “Whatever could be the matter?”

Silent tears fell down your face as you closed your eyes and pulled the blanket over your head. You were shaking slightly and trying not to squirm.

“Are you ill?” He asked. He wanted to hold you, make you feel better but he held back, not wanting to make you flinch again. A strangled moan left your lips and everything clicked in his mind.

The incubus.

“My love… let me help you… please.” He begged.

You lifted the blanket slightly. He heard your quiet sobs as he shifted himself under the blanket, careful not to touch you. He saw your legs rubbing together, how your hands fisted the bed roll. But most of all he saw the endless tears streaming down your cheeks and how your face scrunched up in pain. You let out sobs and moans; he never saw you like this. Your normal calm and happy affect was long gone.

Astarion kicked at the tent flap, letting light pour in. The thin blanket illuminated with blue light. Your eyes opened at the sudden color change. Astarion held the blanket up, giving you both space to breathe. Your shaking hand reached out to touch it.

“When Cazador made me use myself… I felt so ashamed and disgusted. It planted this seed inside me that made me repulsed by anything physical… I’m so sorry little love, if I could take this pain from you I would.” Said Astarion in a whisper.

Your breathing picked up and you squealed, sobbing once more before curling into Astarion’s side. Your hiccups and sobs slowed into sniffles here and there.

“But… you can survive this. You can love despite this. And I’ll always be here, in any way you need me my sweet.” He whispered into your hair, not touching you but wanting you to know how much he meant it.

You cautiously wrapped an arm around his waist while you whispered “Sleep… I want the potion of sleep… please.”

Astarion sighed, his heart cracking in half. He got up and got the potion for you, tilting it slowly so you could drink it. Your body went limp quickly, a deep sleep settling in your muscles. Your cheeks were tear stained, the rims of your eyes were red. He understood now why you had been away from him. The incubus was using you day in and day out, after all, that's all incubus do. He huffed before pulling the blanket back up over you, tucking you in. He marched to Karlach’s tent, a mission in mind.

She smiled at him, opening her mouth to get a word out but he cut her off before she got the chance.

“I need your help. I can’t tell you what it is, you can never ask me about it later, and were gonna hurt somebody.” his jaw was clenched, his eyes like daggers.

“What portal should we take?” Karlach responded, picking up her axe.

------------------------

Astarion walked into the tent as you rolled over, rubbing your eyes. You looked at him for a moment before looking away, shame and bile rising in your throat.

“Darling,” Astarion started, sitting near you but not too close. You noticed he was covered in blood and sweat. Did something happen while you were asleep?

“This is for you.” he said, holding out a piece of bloody chain.

You took it, looking at it with confusion. You noticed small infernal writing on the chain. Your eyes widened. This was from Haarlep.

“They’re dead?” you asked with a shaky breath.

“Yes.” he said gently.

You crawled into his lap, straddling him. Your arms wrapped around his neck, you hugged him tightly as sobs racked your body. “Thank you.” you whispered.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t kill that bastard sooner. You shouldn’t have had to feel that… any of it.” his arms held you just as tight. He was so worried about you these last few weeks. As soon as it all clicked in his mind he knew he had to do something, he couldn’t stand to think about you suffering like he had for even a moment.

“You need to wash.” you spoke after a while, still holding him.

“I can do that later, I want to stay with you.” he spoke as he ran his hands through your hair, massaging your scalp.

“Can I wash with you? I want to wash them off of me… for the last time…” a single tear left your eye. You were so relieved Haarlep was gone, and yet, something inside you ached. A part of you had suffered and it ached inside you despite the fact that justice was served in the highest form.

Astarion nodded, kissing your head before he got up and filled the tub. He sunk down, keeping his eyes averted as you undressed. You sunk down across from him, your legs tangled together.

You took his hands, “I love you.” you kissed his knuckles.

His face softened, he kissed your knuckles back, “I love you.”

Astarion washed you with feather light touches, soft kisses placed here and there. He helped you dress, brushing your hair a bit before laying you down with him. Your body felt clean, you felt… restored. Your eyes drooped as Astarion wrapped a blanket around you. He stayed up, listening to your soft, even breaths. He caressed your face every now and then. He knew it would take time to help you overcome what Haarlep had done, and he was going to be there every step of the way.

-----------------

Naboo's Note:

Hello all! Sorry I have been away for a bit. The holidays and work have been awful on me and my writing time tbh but I'm getting back into it. I hope this is a fun little piece for everyone, I love me some hurt comfort lol. Thank you all for the support and understanding. Thanks for the likes, comments, reblogs, and requests. TTYLXOX <3

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rafedaddy01 · 13 days

Note

Ok but imagine meeting rafe but having a bf that is really boring in bad.

So when your drunk you confess that to him and he makes it his mission to show you all the sex positions so that you can pick your favorite

(dont worry about your ex he is dead, probably 🤗)

I Can Treat You Better

Summary: you confess to rafe that your boyfriend doesn’t treat you right and he takes matters into his own hands

Warnings: p in v

A/N: thank you so much for the request

“And he doesn’t even know how to make me cum” Rafes eyes widen at my confession. “Is that so?” He sit straighter in his seat, manspreading his legs.

“Yes! It’s so frustrating” I heave a deep sigh as I take a sip of my drink and lean back into the couch, frustrated.

I admit I had to much to drink tonight and when that happens I tend to have loose lips. I shouldn’t have said that about my boyfriend, especially to rafe, but what’s done is done.

“Well.. I can teach you some new positions. You know, just so you can get some experience” rafe sits closer to me on the couch, his hand trailing up my thigh as the other curls a loose strand of my hair around his finger.

“Really?” I turn my head to him, desperate for something. Anything. My boyfriend doesn’t satisfy me enough and I crave being touched by someone who knows what they’re doing.

It wouldn’t necessarily be cheating, no, I’d be doing it for my boyfriend’s benefit. Learning some new moves and positions, he won’t know what hit him. “Let’s do it”

Me and rafe walked up the staircase and entered his room, getting right down to business.

His hands cup my face as he pulls me in for a kiss, his tongue slipping since my mouth and tangling with my own.

I moan into the kiss and he excepts it with an open mouth.

We move closer and closer to the bed until he pushes me down on it, I watch as he strips his clothes until he’s just in his boxers and I can see the outline of his cock. “Th-that’s not gonna fit” I nod towards his member and he smirks. “Don’t worry, we’ll make it fit” he grins as he comes in for another kiss, this time trailing his lips down the column of my neck and making me whine in pleasure.

“Let’s get these clothes off you” he pulls at the hem of my shirt and yanks it off, unbuttoning my pants next and throwing them to the side as I lay in my undergarments.

Rafe takes a moment to look and me and I swear I hear him mutter “fucking perfect” under his breath, but before I have the chance to ask him he’s tearing into my panties and unclipping my bra and I lay completely naked before him.

He pulls his boxers off and my mouth drops, how could it have gotten bigger. “Don’t worry, it’ll fit” he says before wrapping his big arms around my thighs and pulling me closer to him.

I’m already dripping wet, the idea of having someone who knows what they’re doing taking care of my body has me leaking with arousal. “Damn baby, who you this wet for” rafe takes his cock in hand and runs the tip down my slit and back up to my clit. My back arches as I try to get closer.

“Easy doll face, I’ll give you what you want in just a second.”

I’m whining and thrashing at this point, desperate for something, anything he’ll give me. And just as I’m about to beg, rafe impales me with his cock. My breath catching in my throat and my eyes roll back in pleasure. “There we go..” rafe grunts as he pulls his hips back and swings forward, setting an even tempo of thrusts.

“Oh, fuck” my body goes limp, my mind blank. I dig my nails into the bed and crumple up the sheets in my palms, desperately trying to control myself as rafe speeds up.

“Lift your hips a little, let’s me get deeper” I do as he says and I feel him in my guts, his tip nudging my cervix over and over again. I’ve never had someone be this deep inside me before.

“Oh, shit, rafe!” I moan and scream as he lifts my legs higher, setting them on his shoulder and snapping his hips harder. “That feel good? Huh? Tell me who owns this pussy, whose fucking you this good, baby”

“Y-you are, rafe, you are” my eyes shut as I feel my orgasm getting closer and closer. “Fuck I’m close” I open my eyes and look at him, his hair is a mess, skin glistening in sweat and his breathing is rapid as he continues demolishing my pussy. “Go ahead baby, cum.” Before he even gets a chance to finish his sentence I’m squeezing around him and letting go, creaming all over his cock and milking him dry. “Oh, fuck” rafe groans as I feel his warm liquid heat me up from the inside.

“Shit” rafe laughs breathlessly as he slowly pulls out and watches his cum drip out of me.

“Next position”

Taglist

@f4ll-for-you @v21sstuff-deactivated20240415 @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx @spencerreidsrealgf @rafescokenostril @thievin-stealing @rafemotherfuckingcameron @dilvcv

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darkbluekies · 11 months

Note

Dr Kry is the Yandere of all time, I want him.

Deja vu / Welcome home

doctor!yandere OC x fem!reader Summary: 8 years have passed. Dr Kry gets your son as his patient and decides to get you back once and for all — and to keep you forever. Warnings: kidnapping, manipulation, gaslighting, blackmail, drugs, medicine, involuntarily removing clothes Word count: 4.6k

A/N: here you have him, all to yourself :)

It’s just like any day. Nothing out of the ordinary. Dr Kry looks down at his patient list. Just three people, one being a seven year old boy. It won’t be hard. he might even get to go home early today. He has leg pain, possibly a broken foot.

Dr Kry grabs a wheelchair and walks out into the waiting room where he sees the little boy sitting all alone on a chair, swinging his legs carefully.

“Noah?” he asks.

The little boy looks up and jumps down from his seat. He limps. Dr Kry smiles warmly and holds out his hand to help the little boy up in the chair.

“Are you here alone?” Dr Kry asks and starts to push the wheelchair.

“Yes … mom and dad couldn’t get of off work”, the little boy mumbles.

“You have nothing to be afraid of, I will take very good care of you. You’re very brave to come here all by yourself. Like a big boy.”

Noah giggles. Dr Kry smiles slightly, feeling his heart swell. He does like children … just not the loud, crying ones.

“There we go”, Dr Kry says as they enter his office. He sinks down in his chair. “Now, won’t you tell me what happened to you? It says in your journals that you have some leg pain.”

“I hurt myself while playing football”, Noah answers. “The grass was wet and I slipped.”

“You have to be careful playing sports. Too many injuries and then it’ll be irreversible.”

“Oh …”

Dr Kry senses the fear creeping over the little boy. He smiles warmly.

“I’m sure there’s nothing to be afraid of”, he reassures him. “I’m going to take an x-ray scan of you. You’re a brave boy, you’ll let me do it, won’t you?”

Noah nods carefully. Dr Kry smiles and ruffles his hair. He takes out the x-ray machine and moves the little boy over to the bed. He’s careful and comforts Noah along every step. He can tell that the little boy’s foot has gotten sprained.

“Alright, brave boy”, he says and removes the machine. “You have a sprained ankle.”

“Is that bad?” Noah asks with wide, tearful eyes.

“No, it’s not. It could have been broken and then you’d have some troubles, but this is nothing.”

He picks up the journal to write it down when something catches his eyes. The full name of Noah’s mother is so familiar. Dr Kry can feel his heart stop. It can’t be true.

“Noah, is your mother Y/N L/N?” he asks while trying to control the tremble in his voice.

“She has a new last name now”, Noah says. “That’s her name before she married dad.”

An invisible punch lunches against Dr Kry’s chest. But he feels a weird liberation. After eight long years he might finally meet you again. You can be together again!

“Why?” Noah asks quietly.

“Nothing, nothing”, Dr Kry says quickly and smiles. “She’s just an old friend of mine. Nice to see her name again …” He looks around. “I should uh … move you … to a room instead. I think you’ll have to stay here overnight.”

“No! I don’t want to sleep here! I want my mom …”

So do I, Dr Kry wants to say.

“It’s okay”, he says. “I’ll stay with you. And maybe your mom can come too.”

He lifts the young boy in his arms and walks out of his office. He holds one of his hands in the back of Noah’s neck, gulping. This is the closest he’s been to you since you escaped from him. Your DNA is in the very boy he’s holding. Dr Kry nods. He has to protect this little boy.

He takes the elevator up, looking at Noah in the mirror with a small smile. Dr Kry walks into the room. The exact same room he kept you in eight years ago. He places you down in the exact same bed you’ve been lying in. He has kept the room the same as it was when you left, in hopes of you one day returning. The books in the shelves are still there with their bookmarks showing where you stopped. He can’t wait for you to pick up where you left off.

“I’ll go call your mom”, Dr Kry says and lifts up the journal.

He copies the telephone number from the page into his phone. His hands are trembling. He can’t believe that he’s going to speak with you again! Dr Kry walks out into the corridor and dials. He holds the phone to his ear, swallowing.

“Hello?”

Your sweet voice is enough to cause his legs to shake. He suddenly feels like a schoolboy again. Oh, how he hates it.

“Y/N …”, he whispers out when remembering how to speak.

Silence.

“Why are you calling me?” you ask harshly. “How did you get my number?!”

“Your son came into my office and-”

“Oh my God! Don’t touch him, please! Kry, please, he’s innocent.”

Hearing you plead like that again gives him the confidence back.

“Don’t freak out now”, he says. “I’m not going to hurt him. Better yet, I’ll cure him … but I won’t let him go unless you come here. Alone. And if you tell anyone I’ll have to cause an … accident. You’re familiar with those, aren't you?”

“You fucking madman, Kry!”

He smiles.

“So you’ll come?” he asks excitedly. “I’ll see you in twenty minutes then. I’ll be waiting.”

He hangs up.

You barely park the car. You're not sure it's even straight in the parking space, but, frankly, at the moment that's the least of your concerns. With a heart beating in your ears, you run towards the hospital's that once nearly killed you. You can tell that he's waiting in the lobby. Abruptly, you stop. He looks the exact same as he did eight years ago. Your heart drops. Suddenly you feel like you did all those years ago — heavy, small and cloudy. It's as if the poison has entered your veins again.

Dr Kry smiles and jogs over to you before he wraps his arms around you. You're too stunned to move.

"Y/N, oh my God, it's actually you", he whispers, fingers digging into your back. "You're so pretty."

You finally get control over your limbs. Harshly, you push him back. He's visibly upset by your action, but keeps his composure.

"I just want my son, Kry", you say with make believe courage. “I’m not here to forgive you.”

“Very well”, he sighs out shortly and fixes his white lab coat. “I understand.”

“Just show me where he is.”

“I think you know the way very well.”

Your eyes widen. Mortified, you shake your head. Dr Kry revels in your fear. It’s your punishment for leaving him. You should be scared of him after everything you’ve done to him.

“Kry … no …”, you plead in a low voice, feeling smaller than ever. “I don’t want to go there! Just get me my son, this isn’t funny.”

“Do you really want me to go alone and get your son?”

You realize the danger and quickly change your mind. Dr Kry waits patiently. He doesn’t have to rush things. He has you right where he wants you. You’re in his territory now, he’s in charge again.

“No, no, no”, you ramble in panic and quiet down, relaxing voluntarily. “Okay, fine … I’ll come with you.”

“Good girl.” He holds out his arm towards the elevators. “Shall we?”

You glare at him before walking in front of him. When you pass him, you can tell that there’s a wicked grin plastered on his face. You’re very well aware that you’re walking right into the lion’s den, but what other choice do you have? Your son is here all alone in the hands of a madman. As a mother, you can’t leave him here.

Dr Kry presses the elevator button and the doors slide to the sides. You walk in and curl up in the corner of the metallic elevator, hugging yourself and hating how you feel so small. You shouldn’t. Dr Kry moves closer.

“Don’t cry, little one”, he says comfortingly.

That nickname.

“Don’t call me that”, you tell him. You’re meant to say it firmly, but it comes out as another pathetic plead.

He terrify you like none other, still, after all these years.

He cups your face between his large hands. Never before have you wished that the elevator ride could be quicker. He caresses your cheeks with his thumbs lovingly. It makes you sick.

“Your son is okay”, he whispers, ice blue eyes staring right into yours. “And I do not intend to hurt him.

“You fucking liar”, you whisper and sob.

He collects a tear with his thumb and stares at it adoringly before leaning forward and kissing your forehead. Finally, you gain control of yourself and push him off.

“Let me go!” you shout angrily.

The elevator doors finally open and you scurry past him out into the familiar corridor. Dr Kry grabs your arm firmly, stopping you abruptly. You spin around to meet him with a hammering heart.

“Before we go in, you need to get yourself together”, he warns you. “Your son is in there. Do you want to scare him with your tears and frantic behavior?”

“Of course not”, you whimper.

Dr Kry picks up his handkerchief from his lab coat pocket and hands it to you.

“Then wipe your tears”, he advices you softly. “We’ll do some breathing exercises.”

You dry your eyes and take a deep breath, hating that you once again follow his lead. When he’s satisfied, he walks over to the door that kept you locked in for months and months on end. You stop, preparing yourself. You’re not sure how you’ll react to seeing the room. After you escaped, you’ve dreamt nightmares about it.

“Sweetheart, are you alright?” Dr Kry asks, sounding genuinely concerned.

“Yes, I’m fine”, you say coldly.

He opens the door and you walk in, heart skipping a beat when you see your poor little boy sitting in the same bed you’ve been tied to.

“Noah!” you breathe out and run over, hugging him tightly. “How are you? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“My leg is broken”, he mumble embarrassedly.

“Not broken, little man”, Dr Kry smiles. “Sprained, remember? It’ll be okay in no time.”

You hug your son again, trying to hide how terrified you really are. Dr Kry stands behind you and watches you with loving eyes. He shows you the results of the x-ray and asks you to step outside with him again. Carefully, he closes the door behind you both.

“You said you’d cure him”, you say quietly with a venomous voice. “You said you’d cure him and let him go if I came here … and I’m here now. Keep your end of the promise, Kry.”

“I guess I could do that”, Dr Kry says thoughtfully. “If that’s what you want.”

“Of course it is.”

“But in that case, I want you to stay here.”

“No fucking way!” you almost shout. “I’m not going through this shit again!”

Dr Kry raises his eyebrows warningly. “Lower your voice.”

You bite your cheeks.

“I won’t let you treat me like that again, Kry”, you hiss.

“I see”, he says and sighs heavily. “In that case, I guess I’ll have to do what I feared. I don’t want to hurt anyone with your genetic material … but if you don’t let me care for you again, I’ll do what is necessary to keep you with me.”

“You’re sick.”

Dr Kry takes a step forward. You back.

“You will do what I want unless you want me to kill your son”, he says quietly. “You know what I can do. Do you really want to test your luck?”

You hide your face in your shaking hands to prevent yourself from going insane. Tears starts to flow once again. Dr Kry puts his hand on your shoulder.

“What do you say, Y/N?” he asks. “I will let your son and … husband … go if you let me have you again. I have no use or interest in them. They’ll be completely safe. All I want is you. No one else.”

Your sobs make his heart shatter, but he has to stand his ground.

“It’s not a hard choice”, he says softly. “Don’t you want to save your son? I know you want to. You’re such a good person, the best I’ve ever met. You always want to care for others. So what do you say? Will you do what I want?”

“Yes, fine”, you mumble defeatedly into your hands. “If that’s what it takes to keep him safe.”

Dr Kry breaks out into a smile and hugs you tightly. He leans his head on yours and breathe out in relief. You’re his patient again, you’re his. He tries to remove your hands from your face.

“Will you stay here while I contact Noah’s father?” he asks.

He feels better calling your husband Noah’s father than your spouse. Dr Kry takes your phone to call him. While he’s talking to your husband, you feel like you’re going to throw up. Dr Kry tells the man that he can come get Noah, but that you have to stay for checkups that will mostly take the rest of the evening. You’ll have to stay the night. You listen to it all. You want to snatch the phone and scream that you’ll be hurt again, but you can’t move. Things are starting to sink in.

“Let’s go inside the room and wait for him”, Dr Kry says and puts his hand on your back. “Come here, sweetheart. Wipe your tears and put on that smile I love. He’ll be safe soon, think about that.”

You nod and dry your eyes with your sleeve. Dr Kry opens the door again and you enter. The doctor gives your son a pair of crutches and tells him to stay off his hurt foot for a while. He should do more, but he can’t think straight. All he wants is for him to get out of the hospital so he can have you all to himself.

When your husband has come to the hospital, Dr Kry leaves the room with Noah, locking the door behind him. You have ten minutes for yourself in the room. You take the opportunity to walk around and look at it. Eight years have passed, and yet everything’s right where it was left. The bookmarks in the books are still where you stopped reading. A lump forms in your throat. Will you go back to that terrified, weak woman again? Will he strip you of everything again? Tears run down your face. You’re really back in his grasp. He will isolate you, deprive you of everything but him. He will kill you.

The door opens behind you, but you don’t dare to turn around. Fast footsteps reach you and you feel his arms around you.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. “What happened?”

You only shake your head.

“Come here, Y/N”, Dr Kry says and gently leads you by your upper arms to the bed. “Let’s talk.”

He sits you down and roll over on his stool. You keep your head down, hands trembling in your lap.

“Y/N, I don’t want us to start off on the wrong foot”, he says and tries meeting your eyes. “I’ll do anything for you. You know that. I let your son and husband go. I wanted to do a lot to him for having a kid with you, but I didn’t.”

Don’t fall for it.

“Do you think that will make me forgive you?” you hiss and sniffle. “You killed so many people … and you poisoned me. My heart nearly failed! I had to have surgeries after I got out of here … I could have died.”

“I know. I’ve learned from my mistakes. I won’t do that again. I promise.” He reaches for his stethoscope. “Speaking of that, we need to check you. Do you mind taking off your clothes for me?”

“Yes, I do mind.”

He sends you a tired glance. “Y/N, don’t be so difficult. I’m not going to do anything weird. Have I ever done anything weird to you?”

You honestly can’t come up with a single thing he’s done that has gone over the top. Everytime he helped you in the bathtub, everytime he checked for lumps, he’s been professional. You might not trust Dr Kry in many areas, but this is one where you’re ready to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Exactly”, he says and gives a reassuring smile. “I just have to make sure that you’re okay. It’s been eight years. A lot can happen in those years.”

You sigh and remove your shirt. Dr Kry walks behind you and places the circular palette of the stethoscope against your spine. You shiver at the cold touch.

"Sorry", he whispers apologetically.

You wait as he moves the stethoscope around.

"Your heart sounds okay, thankfully", he says in relief.

"It's not thanks to you", you mumble.

"You can stop saying it. I'm not dumb, I know."

He asks you to lay down as he feels around your body after any abnormalities. You're suddenly exhausted, not sure of how long you can continue to stay alert. Too much has happened in the span of two hours. Of course, Dr Kry picks up on it. Of course he does.

"Are you tired?" he asks.

You don't answer. You keep your eyes down in your lap where your fingers scratch at your nails.

"I don't want to sleep here", you mumble.

"You won't do it many times", Dr Kry reassures you and walks over to the book shelf. "We're not going to stay here."

You look up. "We're not?"

"No. You escaped me one time. I can't let that happen again. We're going home."

Home? You remember Dr Kry talking about his home a few times. A 20th century villah with a big, spacious garden in the woods — far, far away from everyone and everything.

"Now, what book do you want to continue?" Dr Kry asks.

You lower your head.

Dr Kry spent the night with you. He lied down beside you in the bed. You had been handcuffed to the bedpost to make sure you'd stay in case you got any ideas.

"Are you hungry?" he asks as he sees you hold your hand over your stomach. He folds some papers and puts it in a box he's going to bring with him. "We'll stop somewhere for breakfast. I don't want to waste a single second here."

"I don't want to go anywhere with you, Kry", you say bitterly.

"That's 'Doctor' to you. You're my patient again, and hereby you shall call me 'Doctor'."

"Not a chance. You want me to call you that because it gives you authority. If we're leaving the hospital, you're not a doctor for me anymore."

"I didn't go to university and earn my degree for you to diminish my title." He smiles crookedly. "For every time you call me something other than a doctor is an hour you go without entertainment."

"You haven't even told me your first name, isn't that better than your title?"

Dr Kry turns to his box, picking it up."You don't need to know my first name."

"Why? Are you scared that I'll be able to sue you if I get away again?"

Dr Kry scoffs and turns to you, box in hand. "You could have sued me with my title and surname, Y/N. But you didn't." He raises a blond eyebrow. "And why was that? Hm?"

You glare at him. He takes a step forward, wickedness written all over his face.

"Deep down, I know you're scared of me", he says tauntingly. "You can pretend as much as you want, but you forget that I'm a doctor. I can read your body language better than anyone else. And do you know what I can read?"

He takes a step forward, causing you to take a step back. You shake your head at his infuriating question.

"That you're absolutely terrified of me", he smiles. "And that's why you didn't sue me. You knew that I'd win one way or another and that I'd get my revenge on you. You didn't dare to meet me in a court room. So I'm happy that you used your brain and didn't do it. I didn't doubt you one single time. If there's one person in this world I actually trust, it's you."

Baffled, you blink. "What?"

"You were scared and I understand that. I know you never mean to do anything to hurt anyone, but you were scared that I'd kill you … so you escaped. It had nothing to do with me. But things will change now. You don't have to be afraid of me anymore."

Do not fall for it.

I don’t want to believe you. I don’t want you in my head anymore. I don’t want to fall in your traps again. Please be silent. I know your mind games. Please, be silent. Please.

“I love you, Y/N”, he says. “I really do.”

You don’t answer. You don’t know what you should answer.

“Are you ready to go?” Dr Kry asks instead. “If you behave well, we can get whatever breakfast you want. Even junkfood.”

How generous.

"And if I don't behave?" you ask and regret it immediately.

"Then you'll have to sleep the entire ride", Dr Kry says and halts. "But maybe that's a good idea? That way, you won't see the road."

"Forget I asked."

"I'll give you a sleeping pill after you've eaten. Come now, let's go."

You sigh and follow him. Should you try to make a run for it? You're getting put to sleep after all. Doesn't matter if you behave or not.

"Don't try", Dr Kry says as you enter the elevator. "If you try the slightest thing, I'll have to do something I don't want to."

You decide to keep your mouth shut instead of asking questions this time. You follow him through the lobby, out to the parking lot, to his white car.

"Get into the front seat", Dr Kry says when you reach for the backseat doors.

You sigh and give up. When he's behind the wheel, the doors lock.

"Okay, Y/N", he says while breathing out in relief and watching the rear view mirror. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"McDonald's", you say. "I want their breakfast muffin."

He grimaces. "Eugh … fine. Okay. I did promise."

He doesn't turn on the radio, leaving you in silence with him.

You get your breakfast just in time. While you eat, you can see how Dr Kry picks out a sheet of pills from his box and cracks one open from its shell.

"Swallow this with your water", he says.

You want to snarl something back, but hold it in. Defeated, you swallow the pill. You can physically feel it slide down your throat.

"Good girl", Dr Kry says pleased. "Now you just have to sit back and relax."

You're not sure what he gave you, but just ten minutes later, you've blacked out harder than on a Friday night. Dr Kry can now drive in peace without having to worry about you memorizing the way. He glances at you from time to time, just to make sure your head isn't in an uncomfortable position or if you're awake. Swiftly, he drives off the main road, onto a smaller asphalt road, and eventually into a dirt road looking more like a bicycle path. The dirt road is divided in the middle with grass, creating enough space for the wheels of his white car. Out from the bushes a Scandinavian 1910s white tree villah exposes itself. Two floors with a green attic and bushy garden in the same color. A glass verandah meets them. Everything taken directly out of a Studio Ghibli movie.

Dr Kry jumps out of the car and walks over to your side. He picks you up in his arms and carries you inside. He remembers the first time he returned to the house after you escaped his claws. An unwelcoming smell hit him right in the face when he walked in. He felt like a cheater, spending more time at the hospital than at home. In reality it had been the lack of fresh air and after opening all the windows, it was gone.

Dr Kry walks upstairs and into his bedroom. Although you never came here — like his original plans stated — he kept his king sized bed. Just in case. And he's glad he did. Carefully, he places you under the covers, gently tucking you in.

"You're finally home", he whispers and caresses your forehead. "After way too long."

You sit up and look around. Where are you? Right. Dr Kry's house.

Quickly, you pull the covers off of you and sneak over to the door. It creaks slightly when you open it. First though crossing your mind is: where the hell is Dr Kry? Second: where is the front door? You sneak over to the white stairs and slowly move your way down.

You feel every door you find, none leading out to freedom. Finally, you find the front door, but it’s locked. Every window as well. You sigh in fear. At any time, Dr Kry could find you. You’d rather know the place before that happens. You look around, peeking your head into every room you find. Finally, your eyes lay on a glassdoor leading out to the backyard garden. You walk out into a glass verandah and see how Dr Kry is standing by one of the mighty bushes, cutting come of the dead branches. In the soft sunlight, he almost looks ethereal. He doesn’t even resemble the doctor you know.

When you realize that you’re staring, it’s already too late to slip away. He has noticed you.

“Oh, you’re awake, I see”, he says with a smile, lowering the hedge shears. “How are you feeling?”

“I … I don’t know”, you admit hesitantly with a shrug. “I feel kind of numb.”

“That’s okay, you’re not used to this house. Soon enough, you’ll love it as much as I do.”

You stand there awkwardly, not knowing what to do. You’ve never felt so lost — both mentally and physically. You have no idea where you are or what you should do. If you escape, where should you go? How do you get back to your family?

Dr Kry puts down the hedge shears and walks over to you. You flinch, but stand still, avoiding eye contact as best as possible. He puts his hands on your shoulders in a manner making you shiver in disgust. Dr Kry tries meeting your eyes, but you refuse to look in his general direction. Maybe you should have stayed in bed …

“Don’t you think it’s pretty here?” he asks softly.

You do. Oh, how pretty you think it is, but you don’t want him to think you’re okay with being here.

“I really want to go home, Kry- … doctor”, you mumble.

He smiles at your little slipup. You corrected yourself, he won’t scold you.

“You are home now”, he smiles and caresses your cheek. “You’re right where you should be. And I’m so happy about that. Come, let’s go inside.”

He leads you inside and close the doors behind him. You can hear the door lock behind you. When the there’s no escape anymore, the house suddenly feels cramped, almost claustrophobic. You gulp and glance at doctor Kry who’s smiling lovingly.

“Welcome home, little one. We have so much lost time to catch up on.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere fics #yandere oc x you #yandere stories #yandere doctor #yandere ocs x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc #doctor oc #yandere oneshots #female reader

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chokepoet · 8 months

Text

Cruelty & Empathy 18+

gif by @romulussy

Summary | A night alone in the office has Roman and his assistant escalating their tension past a point of no return. The aftermath of which leads to confessions that will change the trajectory of their relationship forever.

Genre | Angst, Fluff, Porn With Plot

Content | anxiety, biting, blood, bondage, choking, crying, dom/sub tones, degradation, dirty talk, mentions of past physical abuse, power struggles, thigh riding, sadomasochism, slapping, spitting

Word Count | 8.5k

A/N: Y’all this fic is fuckin’ filthyyyy… but like in a romantic way??? I wasn’t going to share it but my best friend insisted. If y’all hate this I volunteer as tribute for boar on the floor lmao

Roman Roy’s Office | 10:33 pm

He was sprawled out across the couch as if this were his family’s private estate. It might as well have been. The building’s climate control always seemed to be blowing a peculiar air. One that felt like his father breathing down the back of his neck at all times. Left calf draped over the backrest, right hand cradling a whiskey, and head tilted back over the armrest. His once-slick hair now hung limp, with loose strands reaching for the carpet below. His upside-down gaze willed me to stop my attempts at meeting our deadline and to focus solely on him instead.

My bank account's dwindling had my morals emaciated. They’d weakly played tug of war with my last braincell when I'd accepted Roman’s job offer nearly two years prior. About 6 months into being his assistant, I found myself earning another role: his best friend. His only friend. My typing picks up speed as I contemplate what level of fucked-up I had to be in order to actually enjoy this job. I decide it must have been top-tier when my thoughts drift to the one Roy that had me feeling this way.

In the past 22 months, I came to understand Roman better than anyone else ever had. He somehow wormed his way into gaining just as much insight into me as well. It made me feel strangely protective over him. Oddly enough, he seemed to reciprocate. We still rarely aloud ourselves vulnerability in the presence of the other. We much preferred self-immolation. I don’t think he ever intended to grow so attached to me. He certainly would never admit to it. If you had asked me if the feeling was mutual, I’d lie through my teeth.

I loved him madly.

I don’t exactly know when or how it happened. I do, however, vividly remember when I first realized he held something soft for me.

Siena, Italy | 4:21 am

He was drunk off his ass, his head resting on my shoulder. He had been leaning into my frame for support long before he even needed it. Roman mumbled something about liking me because I was the only “sad sack of shit” in the office who could make him laugh. I asked him why I was a sad sack and not just a regular sack. He blew out a huff of air, causing his lips to trill. The sound was quickly preceded by the flipping of his wrists in a few circles.

“Isn't it obvious?” I nudged my shoulder against his head.

“Because I work for your sorry ass?”

He clumsily tapped the tip of my nose with his right pointer finger, nearly blinded my left eye in the process.

“Bingo, bongo, banjo.” The nonsensical words tumbled out and the rest of his drink tumbled in. “Itstheeyes.” I’d been unable to make out the slurred syllables mumbled just under his breath. For all I knew, they could’ve been Latin for ‘bastard’.

“What?” He dropped his now-empty glass into a historic fountain as we passed. I stopped to try and fish it out, but he dragged me away. I remember wondering if he had made a wish on it in his drunken haze. Rich and careless enough to pretend it was a penny. Maybe that had been why he was so adamant about me not retrieving it. My mind wandered as I pondered what Roman could have possibly wished for. His father's approval? An endless supply of luxurious Korean face creams? A pair of stunning Italian supermodels to lean into instead of me?

Tripping over his own two feet, I instinctively gripped his bicep. Stubborn as ever, he shoved me and muttered something along the lines of 'fuck off'. God forbid he’d take my help. Throwing my hands up, I left him to walk alone a few steps ahead of me. He weaved for a while before slowing his pace until he could lay his head back on my shoulder.

A beat passed, where the only sound was the soft crunch of our shoes against the weathered cobblestone. I caught one of his bleary eyes peeking over at my face. Content with whatever it was he found, he nodded to himself.

“Yep.” He popped his lips on the 'p' and absentmindedly kicked a pebble from our path. “It's the eyes. Sad sack of shit eyes. You've got 'em.” The laugh that had left me seemed much too loud as it ricocheted off every crumbling brick ahead of us. Roman smiled proudly for a moment. “I love your laugh.” The words were said mostly to himself. My cheeks warmed considerably.

“Really? It's obnoxious as all hell.” His brows furrowed, and he shook his head.

“No, it's fuckin’—fuck off. No, it's not.” He kicked another stone. “It's pretty. Pretty like… like your face.” Pretty. “Nothin’ like a hyena.” Hyena? “I think I'm gonna puke.”

He did.

Roman’s Office | 10:47 pm

“Hi.” A small voice lounging across from me pulls my attention. I look up from the computer and rest my head in my hand, my elbow propped on his desk.

“Hi.” I smile softly with a raised brow.“Need somethin’?” The grin that breaks across his features is almost childlike. His big brown eyes could even be mistaken for innocent; I knew better.

“As a matter of fact…” Extremely happy to have garnered my attention, he pulls himself to a sitting position. “Yes!” With a swift motion, he slams his whiskey onto the coffee table. The sharp sound of glass on glass reverberates throughout the room.

“Yes?”

“Yes?” His voice drops into a cartoonish impersonation of my own. His hand was still clasped around his drink for some reason. Flipping his face up to me with a saccharine simper, he adds, “Will you kindly suck my cock?”

“Will you kindly go fuck yourself?” My impression of him was just as cartoonish as his of me. The hand holding my head returns to typing. Groaning loudly, he lets go of his glass to dramatically fall back into the couch.

“Will you? ‘Cause I’m fuckin’ bored!” He drags out his words until they turn to whine. “This is fucking boring. Aren’t you bored?”

“Yes, you’re extremely boring.”

“Hurr-hurr.” He mocks while crinkling his nose. “I’ll have you know I’m anything but and am widely known as delightful company.” A snort escapes my nose and Roman smiles.

“Really? I thought you were widely known as a terrible person.” He rolls his eyes as I quote his cousin.

“Yeah, yeah fuck you.” He gives me the finger. I flip him off in return. “The fuck does Nosferatu fuckin’ know anyways?” The nickname makes me chuckle and has Roman mimicking Greg. “Oh, I—I couldn’t help but—couldn’t help but notice that my gargantuan height may be alarm—alarming the schoolchildren. I—is that why Iverson is um c—crying? Or is he like, I—I mean, is he… y—ya know… special?”

The laughter still bubbled up uncontrollably even as I tried maintaining focus on the task at hand. My passive interest towards Roman was annoying him to no end.

“Come on! I want entertainment! Entertain me, woman!” I roll my eyes. A cinnamon tinted stare was steady burning apertures into my features, willing me to stop ignoring him. “Come—Come on…” His hands outstretch in my direction, middle and index finger beckoning quickly. “Come show big daddy watcha got.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, my typing stops and I fully turn my attention towards him. His face contorts in a grimace already knowing what was to come. My brows raise as I slowly repeat his words back to him.

“Come show big daddy what I got?” Roman’s hands drag down his face and he groans loudly as soon as big leaves my mouth.

“Oh, fuck y—shut the fuck up.” He sinks lower into the couch with high hopes of it swallowing him whole. The smile that breaks across my features is downright malevolent. I couldn’t recall having ever seen him this embarrassed. Surprising, considering all the lewd shit he spews at me daily. There was something sick inside me that enjoyed it. The urge to play cat rather than mouse overtakes me.

“No, no, no. I just want to understand you clearly, Mr. Roy.” Our dynamic had never been much of a professional one. I couldn’t recall the last time I had addressed him so formally but I wanted to really get under his skin. Oddly enjoying my place in its prickled embrace. Rising from my chair, I place both palms on the desk and lean forward with a pout. “Are you saying you wanna shut me up with your cock, big daddy?”

“I’m going to fucking kill myself.” He was pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Aw! Weawwy, Daddy? Jus' 'cause I won't suwck yo big thick cock?” At that, a cushion flies towards my head. I narrowly catch it as I’m doubling over in laughter. He’s standing now, hands overtly animated.

“I swear to GOD, I’m going to fucking—fuck! Fuck you! Out the window!” He’s angrily pointing towards the giant window panes beside him. “I’m going to throw you out the fucking window!”

“Oh wow, you’re gonna fuck me out the window?” His face was the deepest shade of crimson I had ever seen it.

“If you don’t shut the fuck up, I swear to Christ I’ll—“

“You’ll what?” I was doing a piss-poor job at stifling my laughter.

“I just fucking told you. Ass through glass.” He dismissively waves a hand in the air.

“Bullshit.” Finally looking at me, I cross my arms. His eyes flicker to my chest. “You don’t have the balls.”

“Are you saying I don’t have the balls to murder you?” The words come out in a bemused laugh. “I could murder the fuckin’—murder the shit out of you. Easily.”

“Okay.” With a shrug of my shoulders, I feel a dark coil in the back of my mind start to twist. “Prove it.”

“Prove it? You want me to—to what? Throw you through the goddamn window right now?”

I smirk back at him with a shrug, an inkling I had about him spilling to the forefront of my mind. It colors my vision and stains my tongue. If there was ever a time to find out if my suspicions held true, for some reason, I decided that now was the time. The office was definitely empty at this hour, and the privacy blinds were drawn, so no cameras. Risky as all hell, but if things go south, maybe I could play it off as riffing. I could be quite the convincing liar when I needed to be. My mother saw to that.

“See? I knew it.” With hands on my hips, I tilt my head to size him up. My tone shifts into something silky as sin. “You won’t do shit.” The air begins filling with static causing Roman’s lips to twitch. “You and I both know it. Don’t we…” I slide out from behind the desk, feeling taller as I grow closer. Feeling bolder seeing him swallow. “Romulus?” Using his father’s nickname for him causes his nostrils to flare. A clench in the jaw, a quick exhale. I fucking knew it. “So why don’t you just…” Fully standing in front of him now, I look down with a smirk “sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up for once in your life.”

The air was now overcome with static. Thick and heavy. The subjugated desire etched into his features felt so familiar to me. While I had never seen him this way, or anyone else for that matter, I myself had given that look many a time. That inkling I had was no longer an inkling. It had grown roots that smiled with wicked teeth; I was right.

The electric silence between us started to prick at my skin. My bottom lip twitches as it fought against every instinct to fill the silence with some form of an apology. To try and turn my sudden shift from dominance back into normalcy. His eyes dart to my mouth immediately; he knows.

“Make me.” His head slowly tilts upwards, as do the corners of his lips. The heat that had been slowly brewing between us for well over a year licks up my thighs. He was sneering up at me as we stood toe to toe. His burnt espresso eyes had my mind spiraling in their steam. The look on his face said everything. He saw me, he had me, he called my bluff, he won.

No.

My hand wound itself in the silky hair at the nape of his neck and I use it to jerk his head back. His jaw immediately goes slack. Something akin to a whimper escapes his throat. Surprise has my brows raising and Roman feeling embarrassed. His heavy lids fall and he turns himself away. Reaching up with my free hand, I grip his jaw until he’s facing me once again.

“Look at me.” He does in an instant and I’m flooded by a mixture of emotions. Relief, power, love. I never want to forget how he looks beneath my hands. The way his pupils eclipse the hazel of his eyes. The way his freckles scatter under the pinkish hue of a blush. The way his lips part slightly as his breath shakes out across them. Just as my eyes dance across his every feature, his do mine. Is he etching my features into his own memory?

He attempts to lean forward but I hold him steady. Roman wanted to kiss me but I wanted to tease. I press my lips beside his mouth before trailing them along the smooth path of skin leading to his ear. Sucking his skin into my mouth, I bit gently. A soft sound of content slips from his lips, so I trace up the shell of his ear with my tongue. Upon my return, I bite down once more; harder this time. Just as my teeth release him, the fist tangled in his hair gives a sharp tug. His hum bleeds into a moan that has me squeezing my thighs together. A cool plume of air billows past my lips along the now damp skin; goosebumps erupt immediately. I slide my hand from his jaw until my fingers wrap around his throat to hold him.

“Do you like this, Rome?” The soft whisper has him murmuring his satisfaction. “Come on…” I lightly squeeze his throat. “Be a good boy and use your words.” When I pull away to look at his face, I find his lids are nearly shut.

“Y-yeah.” He swallows in an attempt to steady himself. It doesn’t. “Y-yes, I like it.” He could barely look me in the eyes and it made my stomach flip in the best way possible.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty like this.” The words slip out before I have the chance to stop them. He inhales sharply, and the air seems to rattle through his skull. His eyes quickly leave mine as his face warms considerably. My heart beats as if it were trying to rip itself from my chest and collide with his. The blood rushing in my ears was chanting 'I love you' over and over again. My teeth dig into my cheek until the taste of blood envelops my tongue. I'm raging a war with my own body in silence. This newfound power was locking talons with my own subjugated nature and death spiraling through the emotion in my chest.

His pulse was racing underneath my thumb. My voice cascades over his flushed skin as I let feather light kisses rain upon him. His first name glides along the tip of his right cheek, his last over the tip of his left. Hovering just out of his reach, I whisper into his open mouth.

“Tell me what you need.” He desperately tries to press his lips into mine but I just pull back. He grunts in frustration.

“Just fuckin’ kiss me already.”

“No.” Releasing my grip, I shove him into the couch. He trips backwards, gracelessly collapsing into the cushions. I climb onto his lap with my knees pressed to either side of his hips. With one hand, I weave my fist around his tie and pull him to me. My other grips his jaw tightly. “You wanna try that again?” His jaw clenches beneath my fingers. His eyes were wild as they flared up at me. Suddenly, his hands lock onto my hips, hard. He pushes his face into my fingers until the tips of our noses bump together.

“I said, just fucking kiss me and I meant do it now.” His words were caught somewhere between a hiss and a growl. He never could handle the word no, so his response shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did. The power I’d been holding over him was now leaking through the lace under my skirt. My thighs instinctively flex around him and it has him digging his fingers in harder. A liquid heat spreads through my chest at the thought of later seeing the bruises he was surely leaving behind.

“Well?” My teeth clench and the hand holding his jaw twitches. The attitude lacing his voice drug it’s nails up my spine as I’m reminded of how entitled he could be. He wasn’t supposed to be the one making demands anymore. His smile twitches as a darkness blooms behind his glee. “You wanna hit me don’t you?” My grip loosened; my lungs suddenly feeling like he held them in his fist.

“W-what?” I didn’t want to hit him. Did I? He was selfish, he was arrogant, and he could be so goddamn cruel. Still, the urge to physically harm him was something I had never once encountered. Knowing the history of his childhood and having bared witness to his father’s present day violence against him had made me hyper aware of the constant pain pulsing below his surface. My eyes rapidly blink as they search past his burning stare and into the darkened crevices of his soul.

Oh—he wanted me to hurt him.

His need for it radiating from the blackened pits to scald me. It scared me. It scared me because it felt dark. It felt wrong. But it scared me the most of all because suddenly in this moment, I wanted to. “I-I don’t-“

“Shut the fuck up.” Again, my teeth clench and my grip retightens on his jaw. His smile grew. Mother fucker knew what he was doing. He was basking in it.

He reaches for my hand wound in his tie, quickly unraveling before bringing it to his throat. His own then slide towards my ass. Gripping tightly, he pushes me down against his length to make sure I felt how badly he wanted this. He throbbed against my center; he wanted it bad. “Listen to me. You’re gonna let go of my jaw and you’re gonna fuckin’ slap me, aright?” I nod and release him. “Fuckin’ hit me.” As I draw back my palm, his tongue peaks out to wet his bottom lip.

Slap.

My palm makes contact and brushes across his cheek. It was a sad attempt really. Weak. Even though I knew he wanted it, needed it, something inside held me back.

I was still scared of harming him.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Come on!” He roughly digs his fingers into my ass, significantly harder than before. “I said fucking slap me!”

Crack.

I slapped him. Hard. His face jerks to the side. My hand stung as it instinctively goes to cover my mouth in shock of myself. His lips twitch before slowly turning up in a demented grin. A bloom of red seeps out from his bottom lip and his tongue slides across it. With the taste of his own blood, his smile widens. He laughs softly to himself and I slowly lower my hand.

“There she is.” His voice low, a rumbling purr. “You fuckin’ bitch.” The hand I had just used to strike instantly flies into the mess of his hair; our lips collide. A groan escapes, but from which of us—I didn’t know. The metallic taste of him fueled me. It felt frantic, bruising, needy. We pushed ourselves into each other as if we were feral creatures, held captive and starved. Feeding on something we had buried deep inside only to be found behind the teeth of the other. Sucking his tongue into my mouth causes him to moan and set me ablaze.

I force our mouths apart with a pull of his hair; desperately needing to catch my breath and clear my head. Panting heavily, we stare into the depths of the other in quiet disbelief. This was really happening.

“You sure you want this?” I needed to hear him confirm that he did, in-fact, want to go where we were obviously heading. I knew Roman long enough to know he had serious intimacy issues. Their seeming lack of presence in this moment had me in a whirlwind. He pressed himself into my center once again, his nails bruising crescents into my skin.

“What do you fuckin’ think, dumbass?” I let go of his throat and dig my own nails into his jaw to grip him harshly. He openly smiles with swollen lips.

“Tell me then. Tell me exactly what you want.” His expression falters and his jaw tenses beneath my fingers, eyes flickering from mine.

“You know what I fuckin’ want.” His words seep through gritted teeth. I press my forehead to his. Ever so slowly, I begin rhythmically grinding my hips down upon him. The friction causing his eyes to slip shut. A loud groan escapes from somewhere deep within his chest.

“Roman, I swear to God I’ll stop.” He doesn’t say anything so I still my hips. Umber eyes shoot open and he tries to move me himself. I won’t budge. “I will get up and I will fucking leave you here like this. Pathetic and alone with nothing but your hand.” As the words leave my mouth, so do my hips leave his. His brows snap together and tries in vain to pull me back down again. Still, I don’t budge. “I will walk out this door and you will never fucking see me again. Is that what you want?” The threat was hollow but said with a bite that had shaken me. I was falling into this role a little too easily, a little too well.

He gapes up at me when I completely let go of him. Placing my hands on his shoulders, I attempt to push myself off. It’s him who doesn’t budge this time. He yanks me back down with every ounce of strength his small frame contained. The sudden action has all the air escaping my lungs. With a hand clasped to the back of my neck, he seizes me into a searing kiss.

“Whatever you want.” The words frantically rush into my mouth. “I don’t care.” Fighting against the grip on my neck, he finally gives. I pull back to contemplate his words. Tilting my head slightly, my gaze falls to his tie. An idea begins forming as I slowly untie the silk. My nimble fingers unbuttoning his shirt has him intently studying my face. Whatever I want.

Cupping his warm face in one hand, I smear the blood of his bottom lip with my thumb. He parts his mouth and sucks it in. With my other, I reach for Roman’s and slide his own thumb into my waiting mouth. As I swirl my tongue around him, Roman’s eyes darken and he sucks me harder.

Pulling from his lips with a pop, I rub my now wet thumb against his nipple. A soft moan is let loose. My tongue continuously plays with him inside me. He shudders as I pinch the bud beneath my fingers before doing the same to the other. Letting go of his hand, I reach forward to pinch both simultaneously and he groans loudly.

My cheeks hollow around his thumb as he slips it from me. He drags it down my bottom lip and stares intently. Transfixed by my spit glistening in the incandescent light. Cupping my jaw, he pulls me forward to replace his thumb with his tongue. That familiar groan returning when I suck him in. His other hand tangles itself into my staticky waves and he kisses me with everything he has.

“Give me your wrists.” The order was partially muffled against his mouth.

“Huh?” The question was mumbled into my lips.

“I said,” Threading my fingers into his own hair, I pull him back. “give me your fucking wrists.” With a dramatic tug, his tie is jerked from underneath his collar in a rush. He sat still, blinking up at me. The walnut shells of his eyes fall into my hands. There was a slight apprehension, a nervousness to them. “Do you trust me, Rome?”

“Y-yeah.” His voice was hushed as he presents his hands to me and I slowly start wrapping the silk around his wrists.

“We can stop at anytime. You know that, right? Just say the word and I’ll stop immediately.” My reassurance seems to irritate more than comfort. He rolls his eyes with a tilt of the head.

“Would you fuck off? I’m fine.” A crease digs itself into the bridge of his nose and my actions immediately still.

“I’m not going to fuck off unless I know that you know that you’re safe with me, okay?” This dominate role was far from the submissive one I was innately familiar with. We obviously had never discussed boundaries and I didn’t know where the lines were anymore. “I need you to know you can speak up. That I’ll stop the second you tell me to.” Roman looks like he’d rather get a root canal than continue this discussion, but I don’t care. This was far too important. “I need you to know that your comfort is important—that your feelings matter.”

“I fucking know it, alright?” He snapped before groaning and throwing his head back. “God, what the fuck else do you need to know before you just shut the fuck up and get on with it already?” My hand quickly finds its way to his throat with a squeeze. He seems more than pleased by this response.

“Do you wanna fucking cum?”

“Clearly I wanna fuckin’—“ My other hand slaps over his mouth and I can feel him smiling underneath my palm. Roman was gladly trying to piss me off. He was itching to see me lose control; yearned to meet the creature locked inside me. The wicked one I never acknowledged or came near; the demon only he could see. She bathes me in the blood of solidified suspicions.

Roman didn’t want my empathy.

Roman wanted my cruelty.

“Then are you fucking stupid? If you don’t shut the fuck up I’ll make damn sure to have you crying like a little bitch before I even think of letting you cum.” His eyes blackened as he watches my succubuss unhinge her jaw to swallow me whole. “Got it?” He nods quickly. Rapid bursts of air shoot from his nose across the back of my hand. “And lose the fuckin’ attitude.” Removing my hand, I slap him across the mouth; handing myself over to his desires completely.

Having finished binding his wrists and setting them behind his head, I rise from the couch. Standing between his ankles, I unzip my skirt and let it fall to my feet. The muscles in his forearms flex. His tongue peaks between his lips as he gawked at the damp lace between my thighs. Sliding my finger below his chin, I tilt his head until he meets my eyes.

“You know what I want, Roman?” My hand takes home around his throat once again. Now having his full attention, I feel him swallow as he shakes his head. His excitement was palpable. Settling my right knee between his thighs, I nudge it gently against his hard length. His nostrils flare with a sharp inhale. “I want you to watch me get myself off on your thigh.” He groans loudly. I couldn’t tell if it was out of desire, frustration, or a mixture of both but the response delighted me nonetheless. Placing my left knee to the other side of his thigh, I fully seat myself upon him. “Knowing there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it.”

“Fuck.” Slowly grinding against the fabric of his thigh, my lashes flutter at the sensation. A soft moan escapes me before I can stop it. I was dripping wet and could already feel myself swiftly ruining his ostentatiously expensive pants.

“How does it feel Roman? To have me use you like this?“ A whimper meets my ears. His eyes transfixed on my clothed center sliding roughly against his thigh. There was a fire beneath his skin and he was entranced by the sight of kerosene being poured upon it. “To ruin you like this?” His smokey gaze flickers up to mine and I use the moment to grind myself harder against him. The rough friction elicits another moan from me, louder this time. “This is all you’re good for—” My final word comes out in a whine causing Roman to tear into his bottom lip hard enough to draw more blood. “Tell me. How does it feel?” I nudge my knee into his throbbing member once more and the deepest groan ripples through his teeth. His arms jerk against his binds as I use my free hand to sharply twist his nipple. “Answer me!”

“Good! It feels—Fuck.” The sentiment came out hoarse and husky. He shoves his head back into his tied wrists, thrusting himself against my knee. “Feels so f-fuckin’ good.” Digging my thumb into his pulse point, I slide my knee back. He whines; all hopes of friction dashing in an instant.

“No. You don’t get to cum until I say you do. Got it, you demented little fuck?” He’s a whimpering mess beneath me; eyes wide and watery. I wanted to drown myself in the sight and never touch the light of day again.

My thong bunches to the side from the aggression in my movements. Now fully bare against him, a shiver rushes through me as my clit kisses the luxurious fabric of his thigh. I wasn’t going to last much longer.

“If you don’t fucking behave I swear to God I’ll leave you like this—tied up and soaking for whoever to find.” The bite in my threats were losing their edge. My voice lost somewhere between a moan and sigh. An impending orgasm flicks it’s tongue at the base of my spine.

“Wouldn’t want it to be your father who finds you like this, would you?” A mangled whine shakes itself from his throat and has me smiling.

The blood seeping from his parted lips seem to glitter under the city light of his windows. I flatten my tongue across his jaw and drag it up his chin until my mouth fills with copper. The taste causes a sigh to slip from my mouth into his.

“You’re close. I-I can feel it.” His voice tight and high-pitched as he starts to slightly bounce his leg. “You’ve f-fucking drenched me.” The jolting of his thigh into my clit has my head falling into his shoulder; grinding harder and faster against him. The nails of my right hand embed themselves into the skin of his waist. A carnal mosaic of the flesh born below my grip. I was at the brink. “I-I wanna feel you cum.” He’s whining as he starts to bounce his leg faster; face buried in my hair. His shaking breath against my cheek has my entire body erupting in goosebumps. “P-please lemme f-feel you cum.” His beg hitches to an even higher pitch. His thigh nearly vibrating under me, desperate pleas rippling through me. Every nerve ending in my body felt ablaze.

It was all too much.

A scream rips from my lungs and I sink my teeth into the flesh of Roman’s shoulder. He tasted of salt and brimstone. My nails frenetically scratch into his skin as my thighs tremble and squeeze. Groans barrel up from his chest to mingle with my own. My release shatters through me with a blinding intensity I had never experienced before. I was overflowing; drenching his thigh to seep into his soul.

The heaving of our chests pressed tightly together slowly lulls me back down again. My fingertips absentmindedly painting shapes into his skin with the blood I’d drawn from his waist. Sparkles of light and voids of soot twirl across my vision. An indention of my teeth remained etched into his shoulder. He shudders when I press a soft kiss onto the bruised skin. My head falling heavy when it replaces my mouth to lean into him.

I’m suddenly reminded of Roman’s own much needed release upon finding his hips desperately grinding circles into empty air. He’s whimpering; body begging. My hand still cradled his throat so I languidly brush my thumb along his pulse point. His heart was racing.

“Do you need to cum, Roman?” A loud, high-pitched whine answers me.

“Please.” The word comes out in a choked sob. “I need—“ He was fighting against his binds, the silk digging painfully into his wrists. “Please.” He frantically presses open mouth kisses into any inch of my skin that he could reach; pleading with glassy eyes. “Please lemme cum.” I leave his throat to gently cup his cheek and smile softly before pulling back from him. “No—“ He stops himself when I thread one hand into his hair and place the other bloodied one atop his chest.

“You gonna cum your pants for me, Romie?” I take my sweet time sliding my palm towards where he needs it most. “Like the needy little slut that you are?” The whispered words were dripping in ghost pepper honey that had him swallowing. “Are you that desperate? That pathetic?”

“Yes.” The answer comes out in a quiet quick rush of air. “Y-yeah, I am.” My hand finally reaches his pulsing length and it twitches beneath my fingers. He immediately ruts against my palm and I squeeze him before jerking his head back.

“Stop.” He clenches his teeth but surprisingly does. Tensing beneath me, using every ounce of self control to still himself. He was trembling beneath my grasp. Frustrated tears caressed his lashes and began streaming down his flushed cheeks. His breath was coming out hard and shallow through flared nostrils.

A memory flashes through my mind: Roman’s captivated stare watching his glistening thumb press into my bottom lip.

“Open your mouth.” Again, he follows my orders instantly. Hovering my face above his, my lips purse with a drop of spit. He catches it with a moan that I immediately kiss into my mouth. “Cum.” My voice drops just above a whisper against his raw lips. “Make a mess of yourself.”

He instantly begins fucking himself roughly into my grip. The heat of his flesh searing me through the fabric. Grunting into my open mouth as I tug his hair into the cushions just below his wrists. His hands opening and closing before locking into tight fists. “Look at me.” His eyes shoot open. “Such a good boy for me.” A familiar emotion swirls through the sliver of hazel around his pupils. His lids flutter as he fought with everything in him to keep himself rooted in my gaze. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Roman.”

His hips shoot from the couch as he explodes and spreads me open across his thigh. The sensation causes my breath to catch in my throat. A gravely yell rips from the deepest parts of himself and tears apart every muscle in my body. He pours everything he has into the fabric beneath my hand with wide eyes never leaving mine. He collapses hard with shuttering breaths; body limp and twitching.

I release him to bring my palm to my lips; the slightest bit damp from him. My tongue paints his taste into my memory with pupils blown. Jaw slack, he watches intently through heavy wet lashes. His muddy eyes fill with that same emotion I had seen from him earlier.

“Lemme taste you.” The request was nearly silent but it rattled me like a wail. If I was any further from him I wouldn’t have heard it, but I did and couldn’t believe he had asked. Lifting my hips slightly, I run two fingers through my sensitive folds and shiver. He immediately takes notice and a ghost of a smile tugs at his lips.

My fingers tremble as they rise towards his mouth. He inhales deeply before parting his lips for me. Slipping into the velvet of his mouth, his eyes flutter shut. His pointed tongue runs up between their gaps before flattening to drag back down. He was savoring every drop as if he were a starved man lost at sea. An involuntary hum reverberates from his throat into my skin and his cheeks seem to darken even more. He playfully bites down with sparkling eyes when I slip my fingers from his warm mouth.

The sight had the blood pounding in my ears beginning their familiar chant: ‘I love you, I love you, I love you.’ It overwhelmed me and I couldn’t help but pull him into one last searing kiss. Tasting myself on his tongue had my head spinning. Here on my knees, I prayed to a godless sky that he could taste my heart overflowing into his mouth. Cupping his cheeks in both hands, my thumbs brush away the damp paths left by his previous tears. His forehead suddenly creases beneath mine.

“You okay, Rome?” He shakes my hands from his face and turns away from me. My own brows knot together in worry.

“I’m fine.” His face further contorts upon hearing how his voice cracked. It might as well have cracked my ribs right along with it. He clenches his jaw before gnawing at the inside of his cheek. His hands form into tight fist behind his head. He was trying not to cry again.

My fingers twitch in my lap and it takes everything in me not to wrap him in my arms. Instead, I reach for his wrists and bring them forward. They felt heavy and limp in my hands. Right as I began my attempt at untying them, a small sniffle brings my attention back to Roman’s face.

“It’s okay if you’re not okay, you know?” I try to gently reassure him but it only deepens the tortured disgust in his features.

“I said I’m fucking fine.” The words are spit with a venom that eats through to my bones. Feeling me search his feature has him crumbling before me. Fresh tears immediately start spilling down his cheeks and into the pits of my soul. I couldn’t help but reach for him. He surprisingly lets me cup his cheek, so I gently turn him to face me. His eyes squeeze tighter below my lips as I lightly kiss their corners. The small gesture of affection has a mangled sob ripping from his chest. Fully burying his face into my hand, he lets himself weep into my palm.

Brushing back the strands of hair sticking to his sweat, I feel my own eyes filling with tears. Refusing to let myself cry, I leave his hair to clumsily attempt untying his wrists with one hand but the knot had grown significantly tighter. No doubt from Roman constantly pulling against it all this time.

“Hey, Rome?” He responds with a mangled sound in the back of his throat. A desperate need to comfort and free him started anxiously clawing at my throat. “Listen, I know you’re totally fine and everything but I’m actually not.” His watery eyes glance to me, not registering that I’m joking. “The she demon that possessed me, she—the bitch was a Girl Scout from hell. This knot’s tighter than a goddamn hangman’s noose.” Roman pulls his face from my hand while rapidly blinking. The sounds of grinding metal fill my ears and their smokey scent tickles my nose. I flash him a goofy, albeit nervous, smile and the gears inside his head finally click into place.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” There was no bite to his words, having spoke them through a bemused chuckle. He wipes his nose with back of his hand and inhales the remnants of his vulnerability. Grateful relief balms the scrapes at my neck left by worry’s desperate claws.

His smile falters when I suddenly get up and leave him; it's as if a burst of panic fills his chest. However, when he watches me pick up a pair of scissors and the joggers from his gym bag, I sense the tension in him ease slightly. It's only when I climb back atop his thigh that he appears fully relieved. The weight of my warmth sinking into him seems to ground him.

After tossing his change of pants onto the cushion beside us, I carefully slide the blade under his tie and free him. The silk had dug in painfully, leaving nearly raw indentions in it’s wake. I mentally make a note to check my purse for some soothing lotion later as my fingers lightly brush across his skin. My thumbs begin rubbing into the muscles of his forearms. Roman was studying my face intently.

“These feel okay?” Shaking out his wrists, he rotates them a few times before letting them fall limp in my lap. It was his way of silently asking me to continue with my actions. He had far too much pride to express his desire for such a tender expression.

“Feels fine.” He fights off a shy smile when my hands pick up where they left off, massaging him gently. “My side on the other hand feels like fuckin’ cruise papers with the way ya shredded me.” He chuckles but I could still hear the residual emotion behind it. I lift the corner of his shirt up to take a look. The sight has my stomach instantly dropping; tangled weeds of angry wounds imbedded deep into flesh. Needles of red hot guilt begin sewing threads of shame up my legs. Looking down, I’m greeted with his blood caked under my nails. Memories of violence and words of degradation take ownership of my lungs.

“Fuck Rome…” My voice cracks and I suddenly feel my own tears holding a knife to my throat. “I’m so fucking sorry.” Roman quickly tears the fabric from my grasp and yanks it down.

“Oh shit. No no no no no—fuck fuck fuck.” His panicked expression made me feel so much worse. The canines of an anxiety attack drag up the nape of my neck like a threat. “I—I was fucking kidding!”

“I shouldn’t have d—done that to you. I—I shouldn’t have hit you. I shouldn’t have said—I didn’t—Rome, I didn’t mean them! The words—I—I’m so sor—“

“Oh dear God, would you fuckin’ stop.” He quickly cut me off but I had already dove to the deep end of a molten lava shame spiral.

“I—I made you fucking bleed Roman!” He rolls his eyes. “Multiple times!” His hands slap themselves onto the sides of my face, pressing hard into my cheeks.

“Yeah and you licked it up and it was the sexiest fuckin’—” I couldn’t open my eyes to look at him. If I looked at him I’d most certainly start crying. “I mean, I’m literally fucking drenched in cum right now.” My mouth was set in a hard line but my bottom lip quivered. “Come on now…” Nope, didn’t have to look at him. Turns out his voice alone could send tears falling. “I was kidding! I liked the fuckin’—fuckin’ feral scratchy shit! It was hot! And—and I told you to hit me! I—I wanted it! I wanted you to say all that fuckin’ nasty shit!” His fingers press into my skin harder as if he could force his sentiments to penetrate my skull. “I…I fuckin’ loved it. Like a lot. Okay?” My head was shaking back and forth trying to gain some control over my emotions, shake free of my tears. Roman didn’t know that though. How could he? I wasn’t speaking. He probably thought my actions were just my way of rejecting him. “Please don’t fuckin’ do this.”

My eyes crack open as I remove Roman’s hands from my face. The knotted look of bewilderment etched into his features summons the childhood phantom of my mother. Taking her disembodied palm to slap me across the mouth and rattle me with shrill screams: ‘You need to pull yourself the fuck together!’ I follow suit, digging the heels of my palms into my eyes.

“Promise?” My question came out pathetic and small. I fucking hated it and I fucking hated crying. I’m being fucking ridiculous. Stupid.

“Again, and I can’t stress this enough, soaking in my own cum right now.” His reassurance comes with a laugh that tugs my frown up slightly.

“I just—I’m sorry. It was one thing in the moment but just like… I dunno. I’ve never done anything like that. I—I don’t know what came over me.” My face felt feverish as the backs of my hands wipe the shame staining my cheeks. “Seeing the aftermath just kinda, it just—The thought of actually hurting you makes me feel fucking sick, Rome.” I feel the back of Roman’s knuckle brush away the tears I had missed. Chancing a look at his face gifted me the softest expression I had ever seen from him. “I never want to cause you any real harm.” My voice sounded almost foreign, weak with emotion and vulnerability. Where did all my bravado go? Oh yeah, it’s dripping down my thighs.

“Well you didn’t, alright? I’m fine. Like completely. A-o-fuckin’-kay over here.” He throws me the okay symbol and tries offering me a reassuring smile but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“But you were crying, Rome.” The smile instantly drops.

“That? No, I wasn’t—“ He shakes his head before scratching at his jaw. “It—it wasn’t because of that.” My brows furrow, and he groans, hands dragging down his face. “Look, I didn’t—I don’t—fuck!” He shakes his fingers through his hair and looks as if he’s about to rip it out. Refusing to meet my eyes, his stare finally settles on my hands lying face up in my lap. “It was your fuckin’—your hands, okay? It was your fuckin’ hands.” My eyes fall from his face and focus on the blood staining my fingertips. So it really was because I hit him. “The way you—“ He sighs. “The way you held me.” Oh. His head falls back as a long frustrated groan escapes him, eyes searching for heaven in the ceiling. “I dunno, okay? It just felt—it felt—“ He couldn’t finish. His eyes fall shut before he continues, his voice even quieter than before. “All I could think about was how you had looked at me.” I swallow before whispering just as quietly as he.

“How did I look at you?”

“I don’t know.” His voice grew thick with emotion once again. He shakes his head and finally meets my eyes; looking so defeated and sad. His pain bled me. “You’re always fuckin’ lookin’ at me like—like—“ Again, he can’t finish. He clenches his jaw like a threat towards the words caught in his throat.

“Like I love you?” His eyes squeeze shut and he turns his face from me once again; hiding himself from my words. I watch him clench and unclench his jaw until courage clenches my own. “Because I do love you, Roman.” Every muscle in his body seemed to tense beneath me, but I couldn’t stop my feelings from shattering their shackles. They’d been locked up for so long that their first taste of freedom sends them sprinting. “I love you so fucking much.” He clenches his fists, still unable to open his eyes and look at me.

I let myself lean into him and lay my head onto his shoulder. His fist start to unfurl and he lets his head fall against mine. A shuddering breath leaves him and he buries his face into my hair, hands tentatively resting on my hips. We sit in silence as I listen to his breathing slowly steadying. Once it had nearly returned to normal, I feel his lips gently press into my temple.

“I love you too.” The words were murmured into me, a heavy sigh follows after them. “You have no fucking idea.” The wilted buds of my heart and mind begin to bloom. My arms wrap themselves around him and squeeze him to me tightly. He reluctantly wraps his arms around me as well; slowly tightening his embrace until he’s clinging to my soul. Turning my head I press a kiss into the side of his throat and hear him sigh once again; the weight between us was dissipating.

“I’m sorry for freaking out earlier.” The words he had stuttered out when trying to calm me drift to the forefront of my mind. “I—I liked it too.” The warmth of his skin embraces my shy confession. “What we did together, I mean.” I hear him snort and it has me smiling against him. The air was feeling lighter.

“I’d fuckin’ say so, ya fuckin’ banshee. You shoulda seen how fuckin’ hard you came. I mean—Jesus Christ, you were fuckin’ feral.” I hide my face further into his neck but can’t help the laughter that bubbles up from me. “And now you act all fuckin’ bashful and shit? How the fuck does that even work? You literally tied me up and road my thigh like a buckin’ bronco.” I bite his throat and my body shakes from his laughter vibrating through me.

“Fuck you! I’m complex.”

“Yeah, no shit.” He tangles his hands in my hair and pulls me back to face him. “You’re fuckin’ insane, you know that?” He was smiling as he said it. “You drive me fucking insane.”

“The feelings mutual.” His smile only widens and he bounces his leg. I yelp in surprise, frantically gripping at his arms to maintain balance. He’s giggling uncontrollably. “You’re a sick fuck, Roman Roy.”

“Ooo round two already, thigh master?” He bounces his leg again. I try to slap his chest but he catches my wrist with his freehand and pulls me into a kiss I’m never going to forget. It was different than all the ones we had shared prior. This one was so much softer, so much gentler. Our foreheads rest against one another. His smile against my lips illuminates every crevice once void of light; I was loved.

#this used to be 10k words lol #I’ve rewritten it soooo many times #Roman Roy #Succession #Succession HBO #roman roy smut #roman roy x reader #roman roy one shot #roman roy fanfic #roman roy imagine #succession smut #succession fanfic #succession imagine #succession one shot #mine #can’t believe I’m following up kittens & perverts w/ this filth lmao #it still doesn’t feel perfect but she’s about to confiscate the phone from me if I keep rewriting this lol #cruelty & empathy

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bluecollarmcandtf · 9 months

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Special Delivery

"Babe! He's here!" I yell to my husband. Peaking between the blinds, I study the delivery worker as he comes up the driveway.

His name is Michael, and he's a bit of a local celebrity on our street. Just about every housewife in the neighborhood savors the arrival of his big delivery truck, and none of them hesitate to fetch him water or a snack.

He of course indulges the women, but Michael never wastes time at our house.

"Really!" my husband calls back, "Let me see."

Together we study the shredded delivery guy as he marches towards our front door.

"He always looks angry," my partner notices.

"Only when he's at our house, babe," I remind him, "I can get the door."

"No, I can get it."

We squabble over who's going to greet the delivery man until the doorbell rings and we open it together. I'll admit, we may have appeared a little eager when he finally saw us.

"Package," he grunts, barely looking our way.

"Thank you!" I reply cheerily, "It's a hot day. I can get you some water."

"No," he looks a bit disgusted by the offer.

"You sure?" my husband adds.

"Yes, I'm sure!" Michael's veins bulge, "I wouldn't accept anything from you! Pathetic excuses for men."

After aggressively throwing our package to the floor, he stomps off, back to his delivery truck.

"That was rude," I'm at a lack for words, "I guess you really never know a guy."

I turn to see my husband's pleading eyes.

"Can I?" he asks.

"Definitely."

His irises roll into the back of his head as his consciousness leaves his body. I catch him before he falls and begin dragging his limp frame towards the sofa. I'm a bit of a scrawny guy so I only manage to move him a few feet.

"Could I help you with that, sir?" I hear a deep voice ask.

Michael is back, only this time, he's smiling brilliantly and posing with his arms on his waist like he's some cheesy superhero.

"Thank you!" I cry as Michael effortlessly picks up my husband and gently lays him across the couch.

"Just doing my job, sir," he reports with a mockingly deep voice, "It's a good thing your hubbie is unconscious right now. I wouldn't want him seeing what I'm about to do to you."

"Stop goofing around, babe," I chuckle.

"I'm not goofing around," my husband exaggerates through Michael's voice, "I'm the big, strong delivery guy. I wear tight shirts and put on a show while I deliver your mail!"

He pairs each word with a new flexing pose.

"Now, about that glass of water, sir," Michael purrs, stepping so close to me that I almost fall back, "This boy is thirsty, and only you have what I need to quench it."

I almost collapse, but my husband quickly grabs me and cradles me in Michael's bulging arms.

A couple hours later, after we'd thoroughly explored our delivery man's body, we got dressed and went out to the park. My husband found the skimpiest outfit to stretch over Michael's ridiculously defined muscles.

"People are staring," I whisper.

"Let them stare," Michael loudly announces, "I don't care if they see me. I'm just a bottom slut out on a stroll with his boyfriend."

I can't help but chuckle as my husband laughs with Michael's mouth. I doubt such words have ever escaped the delivery man's lips.

"Michael?" a confused voice calls behind us.

Turning we find a group of similarly athletic men tossing a football around.

"I thought you were working?" the worried athlete asks, "And what are you wearing?"

"I wear whatever he wants," Michael throws a heavy arm around me, "If you'll excuse me, he doesn't like it when I go too long without physical contact."

My husband turns and plants a big smooch on my lips with Michael's mouth, pulling away only to whisper, "Slap my ass! I think that'll really blow their minds."

We continue our passionate display of affection for awhile while I aggressively grope Michael's muscle butt beneath his tiny shorts. His former friends eventually leave the park, muttering insults his way. Meanwhile I lose myself further in the paradise that is our delivery man's homophobic mouth.

My date with Michael has been fun, but I'm ultimately much happier to return home to my husband, leaving the delivery man scantily clad and confused in the middle of the park.

I doubt he'll get fired. Guys like him can usually talk their way out of consequences, so maybe he'll be a little more respectful the next time he delivers us a package.

#mind control #gay hypnosis #hypno story #male transformation #male body swap #body suit #gay possession #bodyswapper

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sparrowrye · 2 months

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Alastor x Fem! Reader {soulmates} Part 2

Synopsis: soulmate AU where you have the same mark on your body as your soulmate, and if your soulmate dies you also die. Alastor needs to make sure that his soulmate is safe so he can continue his reign - whatever that takes.

Part 2 summary: Escape is futile

Part Pilot

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"And the winner is Python!"

I turned my head from the bloody sight. I had brutally murdered an innocent fighter like myself. But I had to do it. It was my only chance out of here and they were far too mentally gone to even have a chance at a normal life.

I pushed myself up on one foot and limped to the gate. The crowd above roared my fighter name and bets were being collected. My master picked me up and looked down at my injured foot. Usually a head collar was strapped on to keep me from using magic against him, but he had recently gotten more comfortable without it.

I flicked my wrist behind his back. The sweat from my forehead jumped off and sliced through his throat. He dropped me and fell, clutching his throat. I scrambled to my feet and bolted around the cages containing my brothers and sisters in fighting. I ran past the unknowing guard at the gate and into the crowd.

I could taste the sweet taste of freedom beyond those fences. All I had to do was hide in the woods until dawn. It was easy. The crowd didn't know what was happening and people often tried to run out on a poor bet. No one would interfere.

Except one.

Rope wrapped around my throat and snapped my head backwards. The force slammed my back into the cold ground. I coughed violently as I pulled the rope loose. Spit fell out of my lips as I looked up. Standing on the other end of the rope was Striker, a Full mage who liked to terrify others with his illusionist demonic appearance.

He pulled on the rope and it tightened again. I slipped my hand under it and tried to dig my chin between my neck and it. He pulled even tighter, rougher, and pulled me forward, forcing me to fall on my stomach. I sent wind and dirt but he casted a shield of around himself.

I looked to the side and pretended to lift something. His glance was all I needed. I leaned forward and pulled the rope over my head. I barely made two steps before something caught my foot. I tried to pull that one off but the ropes kept coming. My neck, my shoulder, my wrist, and my knee. I flailed and threw every magic I could at his ropes. Yet it did nothing. A Slight hand was no match for a Full mage.

Henchmen appeared and pulled the ropes in different directions. It was mere seconds to have me completely immobile on the cold ground. Striker stepped inches from my face before kneeling down and grabbing my chin. He lifted the rope around my neck at the same time, painfully contorting my neck in what felt like a 90 degree angle.

"Looks like you're mine now, sweetheart," he purred, "'til the day you die." He let go of my head and my face slammed down into the pavement.

I jerked my head up from the pillow with a yelp. I found myself in an old, dusty room with sunlight streaming in from the window. I sat up and examined every inch of the room. How the hell did I get here?

I tried to think past the nightmare but was met with a mental block. Who's house was this? Why am I here? When did I change into a white gown? Who's bed is this?

I put my feet on the cold carpet and padded over to the window. I looked out at a wide open sea and a sheer cliff-face. That's when it connected. I had evaded the worse fighter master for five years and landed right in the claws of the Radio Demon.

A light knock came at the door. I dove into the corner and put my hand up, ready to cast at a moment's notice. But the person who entered wasn't the Radio Demon, but a different one. He resembled a combination of a cat and bird, his entire body covered in gray and white fur and his wings a gorgeous bright red. He had a black top hat sitting between his ears.

"You're awake," he said, "Good. Your clothes are in the wardrobe. Alastor wants to speak with you before he leaves so hurry up." He shut the door.

My neck hairs bristled at being told what to do. I didn't waste five years of freedom to be told what to do again solely because my soul happened to be bound to the worse Full mage of the century.

Yet there was nothing I could do.

I opened the wardrobe to find old dresses that looked like they were from the 1930s. Maybe the 40s or 50s? They were old, that much was obvious. Not my style, either.

Now he's dressing me.

I swallowed hard and picked a long skirt and button down. I locked myself in the bathroom, grateful that it had a lock, and quickly dressed. The sink had a bowl of water in it which told me this old house didn't have working pipes.

I gently splashed my eyes with the ice cold water to wake myself up. I found an old brush in one of the drawers and brushed out my messy hair. It had taken nearly three years to really understand how to take care of this hair. I had grown it out after escaping the rings to make myself more unnoticeable.

I let out a sigh. I closed my eyes and took a moment to ready myself for the next encounter with the mage. He couldn't kill me. He would kill himself in the process. If he tried to keep my in a cage like the others a little self harm should do the trick. I had options. I could handle this. I had handled worse. Right?

Outside the room wasn't much better off. The floorboards caved under my weight and spewed dust up in my face. I sneezed a few times on my way down, careful not to touch anything in case it disintegrated upon contact.

The staircase to the foyer was tight and narrow. I could clearly see the deep purple and dark brown accents of the house now. It didn't exactly look pretty. Though I couldn't imagine much thought was put into any part of this old house.

I turned at the last step to find my soulmate standing by the cold fire. He seemed to be looking at something before he spun to face me. His eyes looked me from head to toe and back again. My fingers tightened into a fist subconsciously.

"Mm, it'll do." I bristled at the comment but he crossed the living room in seconds to stand in front of me. I took a step back. "How did you sleep?"

"Fine."

"Come sit, I have much to tell you before I leave." He stepped to the side and gestured to the room. His other hand was behind his back holding his cane; the cane that made me feel like I was always being watched with the creepy little eye on it.

I looked up at his red eyes before forcing myself to walk into the room and sit on one of the hideous old chairs. He sat on the other one on the opposite side of the fireplace and crossed his legs elegantly. I crossed my ankles and put my hands in my lap. I hated dresses but I had watched enough women and explored the internet enough to know how to sit 'properly'. He seemed like the type to correct me on manners.

"I'll make this simple since I have places to be," he started, "My rules are very simple. Rule number one, you're not to leave the premises. You have until the tree-line before you're considered off this property. Rule number two, you can go anywhere in the house except for my room and office. They're beside each other on the second floor. Don't worry, they're locked so you can't mistake them for another room." His eyes narrowed a tad. "Rule number three, don't bother me. You can do anything you like, request nearly anything from Husker, but do not disturb me."

"May I ask a question?" I ventured. My head was tilted down a little and my eyes glared up at him.

"Yes you may." He laid his cane on his lap.

"If you want nothing to do with me, why the hell are you keeping me here?"

"Silly girl," he chuckled, "I told you last night. I need not worry about my soulmate dying in wasteful ring fights. If you die, I die. Not to mention, if people discovered we were connected you would undoubtedly find yourself against very powerful mages that could kill you in half a second." I gritted my teeth, unsure of how to respond. "And as I said last night, you should be grateful that I'm providing you with a safe haven."

"A safe haven that's about to collapse?" I remarked, looking around at the dusty boards and picking at the old ratted chair.

"Well," he laughed, "if you're bored you could always fix up the place."

"Can't you do that with your oh-so-powerful magic?"

"I have more important things to use my magic on. Besides, your Slight magic should be enough to fix up the things you need." I was about to argue when he abruptly stood up. "Well, I must be going now. I do hope I won't have to remind you of my rules. They are rather simple and easy to follow. Good day." He didn't bother to use the door, disappearing into the shadows and melting into the floor.

I stared at where he had disappeared for a long moment. My eyes then trailed around the room, examining its every inch. It was quiet. Too quiet.

Boards creaked and I looked over to see Husker appearing from the hallway. "I'm sorry to hear that you have a shitty soulmate," he said, sounding genuinely apologetic.

"I never believed in soulmates, really." I stood up to walk over to him. We looked roughly the same height until I got closer and discovered to be a few inches taller. "Is there a reason why you're...here? With him?"

"I'm under Alastor's service for an extended period of time," he answered, turning back down the hallway. I followed him through the narrow entryway and came to an old kitchen. "He told me I'm to fulfill most of your requests."

"Why do you listen to him?"

"For my own reasons," he growled, "I'm not about to let you run off, if that's what you're trying to get at. He can't kill you but he can kill me, and he will if I let you run off."

"Right." I quietly left the room to explore the rest of the house. Next to the kitchen was the dinning room. It was full of random old furniture that looked like someone had dumped the insides of a victorian home here. It circled back to the staircase and sitting room. On the other side of the sitting room was a library study. The books looked like they were nests for spiders, moths, and bookworms.

Upstairs had another sitting room but was mostly filled with old bedrooms and bathrooms. I quickly discovered which rooms belonged to Alastor. Directly across from 'my' bedroom were two locked doors side by side. So long as he came and went at early or late hours of the day, I could avoid him easy.

Escaping shouldn't be hard, though. A pang of guilt went through me as I thought of Husker having to deal with the repercussions. He was obviously a Full mage if he could conjure up a demonic illusion like that. Though what for while he was here, I'm not sure. Perhaps a scare tactic. I shook the thought from my head. I had killed people with my bare hands on the concept of "Me or them". This would be no different.

"Say," I found Husker drinking something in the kitchen, "could we fix the pipes so we can have running water?"

Husker shrugged. "Sure. You want to help?" The side glance his black eyes made me want to incline.

"Sure."

Outside had a cool, ocean breeze crossing the field. I instantly found the tree line Alastor spoke of. The first challenge of escaping would be crossing the field. There was nothing to hide behind or use for a shield. I had to buy time to cross the field and take shelter in the dense trees.

Husker went to the side of the house where an old well stood a few paces from it. He put his hands on the ground and seemed to search through the earth. A moment later he snapped his black eyes open and looked up at me.

"Clean out the well and dig further down until you reach water." He said as he pointed to the stoned circle. I stood on the side that put it between me and Husker. I had heard too many tales of people losing their life to a deep well.

Husker fixed the pipes underground and through the house while I fixed the source. I knew my next request to him was to allow me more clothes that fit my style. And more pants. I kept quiet until the brown water turned into pristine, clear running water from all the faucets.

I dried my hands on my dress in the kitchen and asked, "How did you know I had magic?"

"Alastor told me."

"Right."

"I've also seen you in the fight rings before."

"You what?" I bristled.

"Relax," he grabbed the same bottle from the counter, "I wasn't a master or anything. I was running the bets and gambling." That didn't make me feel any better. How could he just let them keep those fights going? His appearance gave me my answer.

So I changed the subject. "How would you suggest I ask you for different clothes? These aren't exactly right for me." I looked down at the elongated skirt.

He let out a sigh and pulled out a phone. My heart quickened. "Find what you're looking for and screenshot what you want. Then tell me your size."

"You know, that's not exactly how sizes for women work," I tried. "One size in one store could be very different than another."

"Then pick one store and tell me what sizes," he replied. My heart dropped and I took the phone from him.

****

I gave myself a week before my first escape attempt. I had to know Alastor's schedule and Husker's routine. I also need to ensure they weren't bracing for my first attempt. A week should be long enough, surely.

Alastor left in the mornings before or right at dawn and returned at some point well after dusk. Husker preferred to be in the living room or on the outside porch drinking alcohol. I guessed that he had some kind of magic that kept the effects of alcohol to a minimum so he could still keep an eye on me. I made it a habit to join him on the porch most of the time, reading the one book I could think of off the top of my head for him to get.

Alastor had made two more rules since my arrival. Well, one official rule and one implicit. The explicit one was no unsupervised internet access. No phone, no computer, nothing. I had no connection to the outside world.

The implicit rule was my clothing style. Any 'modern' clothing that was even close to being considered immodest disappeared from my wardrobe the next day. This meant he was keeping a close eye on me despite his rules to keep as much distance between the two of us as possible. I had to be careful. I didn't know what type of magic he was using and if he could see me at any point.

But I was ready.

It was a blue evening, the setting sun hidden behind a raincloud. The rain hadn't quite reached us yet but the strong gusts were moving the clouds closer and closer. As much as I didn't want to escape on a rainy night, it was the best chance I had. Muddy conditions and rain made it difficult to see and operate in. For most people. Most likely for Full mages who were used to having everything handed to them on a plate thanks to their power.

Husker had just finished another one of his whiskey bottles and went inside for another. I whispered an apology as the door closed and I stood up from my chair. I used my magic to push against the wood from underneath so they didn't creak. I jumped the stairs and as soon as my feet hit the grass I ran.

I pushed wind against my back to help carry me across the field. My heart pounded in my ears as I reached the tree line and disappeared behind the closest large tree. I sank to the ground and peaked around the tree. I didn't see Husker yet.

I turned and ran further into the forest. The wind from the storm made it easy to maneuver through the dense forest. I had no idea where the closest town or city was but I needed to put as much distance between me and the house as possible.

There was no notion of time as I kept running. My legs burned and chest hurt but I didn't dare stop until I could barely stand. I pushed through the pain and veered off to the side, hoping they would search in the other direction. The rain had started and trees bent against the strong winds, pushing back as best they could. I took this as my cue to find a hiding spot until the storm cleared up.

I picked one of the trees and started pulling up the dirt and roots. I would dig myself a little burrow and wait out the storm. The wind pulled aggressively on my clothes and hair. It felt incredibly strong for a storm and it made my blood run cold. I frantically looked around in search of the bright red of Alastor's coat or Husker's wings. This wasn't natural wind. This was from magic. They were searching for me.

The trees practically uprooted themselves as the wind pushed against them, opening the forest floor to the sky for a moment. I briefly saw Husker's red wings in the sky before the trees cut my line of sight. I dove to the side before the trees opened again. I felt like a field mouse running from a coyote in the field grass.

Husker dropped through the canopy and locked eyes with me. He curled his claws inward and the tree branches reached for me. I pushed against them with wind and snaked through their reaches. I stayed as close to the ground as I possibly could. I needed someplace to defend, somewhere that he couldn't reach me. The forest was proving to be a horrible idea.

Wind and fire were my best friends as I evaded and burned the branches that grabbed at me. Husker went back to the skies and attempted to create a wall with the trees. A branch caught my foot and dragged me towards its trunk. I opened the earth near it and pulled its roots up. I used the storm and pushed the tree all the way down. I jumped into the ditch and pulled the roots back over me, partially covering me from the sky. Husker flapped overhead, arms crossed.

I dug into the earth and filled it up behind me. The further down I went the farther I was from the reach of the trees. Several times he tried to catch me with the roots but he couldn't see me anymore. I had broken his line of sight. That's how you defeat a Full mage, I realized. If the mage couldn't see you, then they didn't know what they were doing.

I picked a random direction and started tunneling again. I didn't get far, though, as I realized my great fault. I had filled most of the earth behind me and it cut off my airway. It was freezing this far down and I was lacking oxygen. I was suffocating. I was already sweating and exhausted but not I was truly fighting for my life.

Praying that they were digging after me in the original spot, I start tunneling back up. Going up was far easier than going down but I was already exhausted, physically, mentally, and magically. I had to take several stops, struggling to breathe.

After what felt like an hour, I reached tree roots. I grabbed hold of one and used the last of my magic strength to pull myself through the dirt. I clambered through the dirt and sucked in the fresh air. I frantically looked around, half expecting Husker to jump on me from behind. But he was nowhere in sight. The light rain had turned into a downpour but the tree I was under gave me enough shelter from it.

I looked around for several moment before collapsing against the trunk. I took deep breaths of the sweet fresh air and let the rain drops patter on my face. Had I done it? Were they digging after me or looking elsewhere for my tunnel exit? It didn't matter. I just needed a few minutes to recover.

"Well done."

My breathing caught in my throat. I looked up to see Alastor leaning against the tree staring down at me. His smile was still plastered on his face and the sarcasm was heavy. I scrambled to my feet and backed away from him.

"I must say I'm impressed that you managed to evade Husker but I'm sorely disappointed that you can't follow simple instructions." He was leaning forward enough this he was at my eye level and creeping towards me.

“I'm disappointed you thought I would just stay put like a pet," I returned with heavy breathing. I was so tired. I didn't know if I had the energy to run from him.

He chuckled at my retort. "I knew you would attempt to run. You watched my schedule. You knew I wouldn't be back until later. I know exactly how your mind works."

“Do you, now?" Using my peripherals, I willed the roots from the nearest tree to uproot and wrap around his legs, making sure not to touch him yet. "Then you'll know that a cornered animal fights back until they die." I snapped the roots tightly around him. He looked down and I ran. I was so tired but desperation kept my blood boiling in all my fights.

I used the strong wind and rode it into the sky. I threw myself as high as I could and looked around. It was nothing but trees. No town, no city, no house, absolutely no sign of humanity. I was in the middle of nowhere.

I dropped into the trees and hide among the branches, eyes desperately scanning the ground. I leaned back to sit on my heels but the strength in my arm had disappeared. I lost my grip on the branch and fell backwards, hitting branches on my way down.

I landed hard on my back and felt a crack run through my spine. I sucked in a gasp of air and stared up at the gray sky. I gripped at the wet grass and tried to pull my strength back in. Alastor appeared above me a moment later, smiling down at my paralyzed body. He knelt beside my head so his ugly yellow smile came closer to my face.

"This suites you," he said, "this desperation. You're trying so hard to escape no matter what it does or if it kills you." He pushed a strand of hair out of my eyes. "Unfortunately for you, it matters to me because we share the same fate."

"Fuck you."

His smile lessened slightly. "I'll add another rule for you to follow." He grabbed my throat and hoisted me to my feet. His claws dug painfully into my skin until I could feel my blood soaking my shirt. He pushed me against a tree and leaned in close to my face. I pulled on his wrist and tried not to cough in his face. "Rule number five. Never speak to me in such a way again." He paused. "Words like that are unbefitting for a woman."

"You can..." I struggled to speak clearly, "you can...keep me here but...but I'm...but I will not play...play by your rules." My heart was racing as his grip tightened even more so. He dies if you die. He dies if you die. I repeated in my head.

He let go of me and I fell face first into the ground. I gasped and coughed up spit as I rubbed my throat. "Give it time." I saw his feet walk around to stand in front of me. "I can be very persuasive."

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin husk #alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #soulmates #soulmate au

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