#I rarely have intrusive thoughts (they do get really bad occasionally though) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hansensgirl · 4 years ago

Text

cattivo fino all'osso.

summary. | He’s bad to the bone, sick as a dog. But he knows that you like him a lot.

warnings. | Dubcon (dubious consent), dark themes, thievery, malicious intentions, smut, slight angst, unprotected sex, naivety, manipulation, gas lighting, obsessive behaviourism, Daddy kink, spoiling, major age gap (she’s twenty, he’s nearly touching forty), face fucking, corruption kink, virginity loss, overstimulation, grooming, step dad/step daughter relationship, cheating, infidelity, fingering, finger sucking, smoking, spanking, use of a hitachi wand, thigh riding, slight mean!dom!charles, soft dom!charles, slight dacryphilia, humiliation, praise kink, degradation kink, breeding kink, choking, slight violence + more. 18+, DARK FIC

word count. | 15,433 words.

pairings. | Dark!Step Dad!Charles Blackwood x Innocent!Step Daughter!Reader.

authors note. | thank you so fucking much for 4.8k!! i’ll forever be grateful to everyone who supports and follows me, i love you all so fucking much. i wish everyone good in life and i hope you’re all happy and doing well. if you ever wanna talk i’m always here, no matter what! (unless i’m asleep or a bit busy.) i’m so sorry for the long wait, please enjoy. <33 also in this fic, hitachi wands exist so yeah! thank you so much @mypoisonedvine and @bbbbearr for being amazing betas! love you guys!

Fine wool that comes from Italy tailors his suit, only the best of the best. He barely remembers how he met her, as certain memories might as well be forgotten. The ceremony is small, only her and the priest. He doesn’t mind — he rather prefers it, actually. He doesn’t know much about his wife — other than the fact that she has a daughter and is quite wealthy. His best bet is that the daughter is some bratty five year old. A clandestine jewel slips onto her old finger whereas an expensive gold ring adorns his. He looks down at it, watching his 24 karat reflection stare back at him and he just can’t help but smirk. “You may now kiss the bride.” The priest says cheerfully, and Charles has no choice but to hold back a devastating sigh. He leans in for a kiss hesitantly, ready to convince her to do all kinds of things. The wedding ends with a small cake, gifts sent from family members that weren’t invited and aching limbs.

“Honey, you’re too tired for us to have fun… We’ll save it all for tomorrow, okay?” He says, pressing a lame kiss to her forehead. She simply hums and drifts off into dreamland, leaving Charles behind. He waits for her breathing to slow down and then starts planning his next move. A glass of whiskey sits in his hands and he’s leaned back in an expensive leather chair, plush velvet pillows comforting him. Tones of beiges and browns compliment his caramel twisted hair perfectly, all falling under the same colour palette that would have an artist drooling in awe. He looks around the house — admiring the fact that portraits of her father and rare paintings are decorating the house. Not one photo though, no. They’re too ostentatious for photographs — photographs wouldn’t flatter their ego like portraits do.

He loathes it all, that big green monster known as jealousy peering over his shoulder. He wants the glory, he wants the richness, he wants it all… and in due time, it’ll come. It’s a mix of jealousy, envy, anger and frustration. He downs the rest of the amber liquid, exhaling as it burns his throat. He sets the glass down and stands up, shoving his hands in his pocket. His feet pad against the expensive floors, and he wanders about the house. He pulls drawers open, empties different vases and boxes and he even takes down those paintings and portraits. His eyes go wide as he marvels at the sight behind one of the portraits, a safe. It’s almost laughable, an heiress who’s worth millions of dollars has a measly, pathetic way of hiding her safe keepings and valuables. He carefully hangs the painting back up, remembering it very well for another time.

He wonders where else there could be hidden in the large castle-like mansion. Jewels, money, papers for properties… god — he nearly swoons at the thought of it all. He decides to retire to bed, knowing he’ll need enough rest for his shenanigans that’ll soon begin the next day. He slips into a silky set of pyjamas, before slipping under the cashmere blankets and turning on his side. He shuts his eyes but occasionally opens them up every now and then, far too excited and nervous to get some shut eye. Sleep sleep sleep… His mind chants, begging for some rest after tiresome spinning like a spindle with devious schemes. Soon, though, the liquid amber takes him over and he eventually shuts his eyes, not at all prepared for the true treasure he is going to find.

The day starts early for the newlyweds, butlers pulling open the lavish curtains that decked out the grand windows. Sunlight fills the room and blinds Charles at the same time. His wife is long gone, off to do some pre-honeymoon treatments and shopping trips. He shoos them away and gets up from the bed eagerly, his caramel laced locks are twisted in knots. He threads his fingers through his hair and waltzes into the lavish bathroom — admiring his reflection in the spotless, large mirror. The bathroom alone was more opulent than anything Charles had ever laid his eyes on. He felt like a newly crowned king, getting ready to sit atop his diamond throne. Charles chuckles at the absurd thought, before reaching for the toothbrush that was laid out for him. After numerous minutes of self-pampering and whistling, Charles was finally ready.

He walks with a bounce in each of his steps, a cheerful smile on his face and his hands stuffed in the pockets of his pants. His breezy, light linen shirt perfectly frames him and he doesn’t care about anything menial anymore. The enticing smell of breakfast fills his nostrils and his stomach sounds with a loud grumble, demanding food. He sighs and thanks one of the butlers as they pull out a chair. He sits at the head of the lengthy oak table that had numerous engravings on the legs. He politely asks the butlers to serve him two waffles with syrup and blueberries on top. “Thank you, kind sir.” He smiles at the older man who simply keeps quiet and nods — already working his way onto Charles’s list of who to be wary of.

Charles moans at the sweet, delectable taste of his breakfast. The noise makes everyone in the room shy and they quickly leave him alone — ready to keep the house in shape. He scarfs it all down with ease and tops it off with a glass of earl grey tea with some honey drizzled in. It soothes his throat and calms him down. He leaves his dishes on the table and starts to wander again -- through the kitchen and other rooms in the house. The mansion is no different to something like a palace. “Hey, you! Come here.” He calls out to a maid who was silently dusting one of the many fireplaces. “Yes, Mr. Blackwood?” She sheepishly asks, bowing her head as she looks at the floor. “I want you to get everyone here, right now.” He ordered.

“E- Everyone, sir?” She squeaks out in shock. He grumbles because he absolutely hates repeating himself. “Mhm, and if you don’t get them in the next two minutes, you won’t see the inside of this house again.” He growled, sending her off. He watches as she leaves and picks up a box that had his name on it. Along with it were many more gifts that were sent from almost every high society blue blooded person there was in America. He opened it up and pulled out a pipe — a beautiful one to be exact. The wood has speckles of the finest gold in it and a gold band wrapped around the bowl of it. He lights it up and takes a drag from it, before pulling it away from his mouth and puffing the grey smoke away like it is a habit of his. “The staff, Mr. Blackwood.” One of the butlers says, making Charles turn around.

About two dozen people stand in front of him, all of them wearing simple cotton shirts as their uniform. “I want you all to go home and do whatever you miserable people do, only come back when I tell you to.” He orders, before taking another drag from the pipe. “But Sir-” One of them speaks up, their voice quiet. He quickly shuts them up with a death-like glare and he dismisses them. Hushed voices whisper on and on about him but he doesn’t care — no, why would he? He just became a member of one of America’s most richest families. He knows people are bound to talk, he’s known that all his life. Charles puts out his pipe and lets out one last puff of smoke. He opens up more gifts, scoffs at the fake well wishes and moves onto the next thing that he lays his eyes on.

The clicking of heels grabs his attention. “I said to go home!” He yells out, before looking back to his pile of gifts. “Well, I mean… This is my home.” You shyly say, clasping your sweaty hands together. Charles turns around abruptly and god, he’s breathless. Innocent beauty fills his eyes and you’re the only thing he can focus on. “You must be Charles, my new dad!” You cheer, walking up to him. He only nods his head, not able to find any words to even cultivate a simple phrase. “I’m your step daughter!” You say, before giving him your name. He repeats it and you can’t help but smile at the way it rolls off his tongue. “It’s nice, very beautiful.” He compliments, placing his hands on his hips.

“Like you.”

You can’t hold back the strong smile that creeps onto your face and neither can he. “Your mother never mentioned your age.” He adds and you look down at the floor. “I… It’s a thing… usually, when she tries to remarry, nobody wants to marry someone who has a twenty year old daughter already.” You explain, your voice a bit sad. “I’m sure it hurts, right?” He pokes and prods, testing to see how far you could handle him and his intrusive questions. “Never really thought about that, to be honest.” You confess bluntly. But you have, and boy does it hurt. “My mom told me all about you!” You exclaim after a few moments of awkward silence. “Really, huh?” He baits, raising his eyebrows. “Mhm, she’s so whipped! She always lights up whenever I bring you up, it’s so sweet.” You admit, pulling at the sleeves of your knitted cardigan.

He smirks, knowing that his own charming ways have successfully worked it’s magic. “Anywho, enjoy your gifts! I look forward to getting to know you.” You quickly bid, before scurrying off. Charles’s eyes follow you, until you’re out of his sight. His tongue pushes at his cheek and he can’t help but to chuckle to himself. He rewinds the interaction like it’s his favourite film and it replays in his mind. He can’t forget the way you fail to look him in the eyes, the way you were shy and oh, he could just tell you were an innocent little thing. A poor girl who has the luck of not being corrupted by the nasty world that turns saints into sinners. He then realizes that out of all the money, out of all the jewels and out of all the gifts there were — you were the most precious one of them all.

You don’t know what to do, truly. These… tingles aren’t rare for you. They were quite common, actually. You never knew what to do about them, hell, you don’t know what they are and you’re too scared to ask anyone. But they’ve never been this strong. You like Charles, and those few minutes of interaction only have you confused about how you like him. You rub your thighs together and it does nothing but worsens the feeling, making you let out a loud whine. You decide to ignore it, but you can’t help but to notice the pooling slickness in your panties. It’s a lot and for a second you’re worried, but then you get used to it. You already had your period for the month, so you just leave it as it is. You groan as you realize what you forgot to tell Charles.

You rush out from your bedroom and walk slowly to the foyer. Each step made you whimper, the slight friction to your pussy teasing you. “Charles?” You call out before you’re greeted by him sitting in a chair whilst he has his new pipe in his mouth. You frown at the smell of smoke and tobacco, hating how disgusting it was. But the sight of him was delicious. You bit your lips and admired his hands, his lips, his face, just everything about him. “Charles?” You called out quietly before looking down at your feet. “Yes, babydoll?” He looks at you, exhaling one last puff of smoke before putting the pipe out. “I- I forgot to tell you, my mom is going to be coming home tomorrow night — she gave me this note to give to you.” You tell him, handing him the folded up piece of paper.

Charles silently celebrates, hoping that your mother would have to push whatever spontaneous trip she went on forward. He silently nods at you, “Thank you, babydoll.” You let out a small whimper and rub your thighs together at the nickname. “What’s wrong, baby? Hm?” He asks, beckoning you towards him. “N- Nothing, Charles.” You lie, trying to disregard the very obvious tingles in your core. “Now, now… I hate it when people lie to me, okay? And don’t call me Charles.” He growls and it goes straight to your pussy. You whimper again, only this time it's louder. The overly debauched sound makes Charles’s cock stir to life, throbbing in his expensive boxers.

“I’m so sorry, I just don’t know what’s happening… It’s really weird and plus, I don’t know you that well.” You shamefully squeak out after apologizing to him. “Hmm…” Charles’s mind travels to the deepest, darkest parts ever. Such a soft, innocent, sweet, docile little doll I have all for myself… “What should I call you?” You ask, inching closer to him. He rakes his blue-grey eyes up and down your beautiful body, only now realizing how short your dress is and how strong your arousal was. The bitter scent of it fills the air and he lets out a hum of both satisfaction and delight. “...” He ponders in silence and gets distracted every now and then by you, before he comes up with the perfect name.

“Call me daddy, babydoll.” He smirks.

“Ok, Daddy…” You sheepishly smile. “Good girl, now come here.” He orders and pats his lap. You sat on his lap gently, figuring that this was normal — it felt normal, right? He grabs your thighs and slides his hands up and down your bare, caressing you softly. He inches closer and closer to your soft panties and soon pulls them down, making you gasp and nearly jump off his lap. He growls and grabs your hips harshly, pulling you closer to him. “Don’t be scared, baby… Do you want to tell me what’s wrong? I just wanna help my babydoll out.” He says softly, rubbing small circles on your skin. “Uhm, well…” You didn’t know how to explain the weird feeling to him. You had so many questions about it too, but you were scared that he would judge you.

“It’s my job to take care of you now, okay? And if you don’t tell Daddy what’s wrong, how can I help you?” He reasons. You nod your head and realize he makes a good point — but you’re still hesitant. Seconds that are almost silent soon pass by — the only sounds being your heaving chests and your thrumming hearts. His grip on you tightens and you whimper, the slight pain being too much for your sensitive body. “I have these uh… these tingles?” You say, sounding so unsure of yourself. Charles can’t help but coo at you, you really were an innocent little girl. “They started when I was a wee thing, or a uh, a teenager! Sorry…” You ramble adorably.

“Tell me more, dove.” He probes, daring himself to inch his hands to an intimate part of your body. “Oh, uh, okay!” You chew at your lip as you think about what to say. “Spit it out, dove… I hate waiting, and I’d hate to force it out of that pretty mouth of yours.” He growls as he quickly grows impatient with your shy ways. You gently grab one of his hands and settle it above your core, but it isn’t touching your mound. Charles so desperately wants to inch his hands into your panties but he knows that he has to be patient, he has to wait. “Sometimes they’re not too strong, and sometimes they’re so unbearable and- and I just don’t know what to do! Is it normal? Am- Am I weird?” You prattle.

“It’s not weird at all, baby. It’s completely normal…” He trails off, thinking about what you said. “I just don’t know what to do!” Charles looks at the times and notices that it was almost lunch, and he wasn’t going to miss out on eating expensive food. “Well, since it’s almost lunch time, we need to eat! Can you cook?” He asks, pulling you off his lap. He throws one of his arms around your shoulders and leads you to the kitchen. “Mhm…?” You sound so unsure — because you are. One minute ago he was touching in places your mother told you that no boy your age should be and was demanding you to tell him a secret of yours. But the next, he treats you like you’re nothing more than a friend.

He stands behind you and follows you around like a shadow as you do your dance around the grand kitchen. You feel like prey and he’s the predator, just waiting to pounce on you whenever he wants. You light the stove up and heat up some leftovers biscuits from yesterday's lunch. “I uh, I made these yesterday…” You say and the crackle of fire coming to life fills your ears. “I love biscuits, they may be basic but they’re still one of my favourites!” He joins in, standing right behind you. Gently, he settles both of his hands on to your waist in a calming manner, making you sigh in delight. His touch sends shivers to both your spine and core and you furrow your eyebrows together.

“What’s wrong, hm?” He poses his question with a playful squeeze to your waist and you giggle with pure innocence. “When you- Actually… nevermind.” You trail off, thinking he’ll be disgusted with you. He squeezes your waist again and rests his chin on your shoulder before leaning close to your ear. “Hmm, maybe I should tell your dearest mother that she raised her daughter to be disobedient…” He threatens out loud and you quickly shout out in protest. “No! Please don't, ‘m sorry!” You plead. Your mother is quite strict, and god forbid that you’d ever disobey her or anyone. “When you t- touched me, more tingles came…” You tell him, staring at the biscuits. “Aw… Well if you bear up with them just for a few more days then I could help you out!” He exclaims, turning down the fire for you.

“Really? You’d really help me out?” You ask enthusiastically, your eyes lighting up with disbelief. Charles raises his eyebrows and smirks as he nods his head in conformation. You squeal like a little child on their third birthday, wrapping your arms around the conniving man who is your step father and you push your head into the crook of his neck. He hugs you back and presses a kiss to your cheek, making you smile. You pull away and take the biscuits off the stove before ushering Charles to sit down. “Hmm… How about we eat outside?” He asks, opening the door to the lavish backyard. “Anything you want, Daddy.”

Your leg bounces as you become increasingly nervous. Ever since Charles came, your tingles have grown to worsen. You remind yourself constantly that it’s normal, and that he’ll help you out. You’ve begun to be weary, though. So here you sit, in Charles’s bedroom, waiting for him to finish his bath. You flop back into his soft bed and your dress rides up your thighs, scrunching up at your hips. You hear him whistle an Ella Fitzgerald tune, and you can’t help but to sway your head in rhythm. Charles continues to whistle as he steps out of the tub and drains it before wrapping his lower half with a cotton terry cloth towel. He swings the door open and the calming tune stops abruptly, and you frown like a brat.

Charles’s eyes went straight to your bare thighs that he would just adore to have wrapped around his head. He catches a glimpse of your soaking panties and clicks his tongue. The sound itself isn’t too loud but it’s enough to snap you out of your hazy daydreams of paradises and false promises. You sit up and don’t bother pulling down your skirt. “Uhm, hi?” You squeak out, waving at him. He disregards your greeting and stalks closer and closer to you, a dangerous scowl on his sculpted face that all but terrifies you. Drops of water cascade down his body and you eye him with no shame at all. You look back up at him and stifle a whimper and you feel your tingles come back.

“Didn’t I tell you to be patient?” He asks with a menacing growl that rumbles in his chest. You nod silently, too scared to even dare to utter a single word to him. “Words, doll, or else you won’t like what’ll happen next.” He threatens, leaning down to trap you under him. You gulp thickly and your bottom lip trembles in fear. “Yes, daddy…” You whisper quietly, bowing your head down in disgrace. He grabs your arms roughly and pulls you closer to his frowning face and his eyes are blown out with both anger and lust. “So then why can’t you wait? Hm? Are you that Goddamn desperate?” He queries, and you can’t hold back the sudden flinch that jerks your body. “N- No! I’m sorry, I really am!” You apologize to him softly.

Once again, the slightly bitter yet sweet scent of your arousal fills the air and dwindles there. “Fuck, so damn needy.” He curses under his breath -- the scandalous, foul word making you gasp. “I think you’ve been a bit of a bad girl, hm?” He ponders out loud but leaves no room for you to speak. He sits down on the bed and pulls you with him, laying you across his lap. “Daddy? Are you gonna hurt me? Are you gonna tell my mom?” You ask him innocently — your voice filled with worry and curiosity. You squirm in his lap and furrow your eyebrows when something touches your stomach. It’s long and as hard as a rock. “Not if you tell her, princess. Everything we do is our secret, okay? And you don’t reveal secrets, ever.” He reassures you before pulling up the skirt of your dress.

Cool air hits your scantily clad butt and you giggle at the feeling. Goosebumps crawl all over your skin and a shiver runs down your spine. You don’t even realize that he dodges your first question as you are too distracted by him. His large, warm hand caresses your ass and your eyes flutter shut. It’s soothing in its own way and you realize that nobody’s ever touched you the way he does. He pulls his hand away and your bottom lip juts out in a bratty, needy pout. His hand returns to your ass, smacking it harshly and brutally. “Ow!” You cry out in pain, choking on a gut wrenching sob that would make the bullies at your school call you a cry baby.

“Shh, it’s okay angel…” He soothes, gently rubbing the irritated skin. Your chest tightens at the pain and Charles can’t help but pity you. “It’ll be over soon, baby, don’t worry.” He lulls to you, making you nod your head. “O- Okay, Daddy…” You whisper out, trusting him. He pulls his hand away and spanks your other cheeks with a sounding pop that reverberates throughout the room. The thing touching your stomach is even harder now, slightly throbbing under your soft skin. He does the same to the next cheek, delivering an even harder blow that makes your whimper louder than before. The tears have started ages ago and they stream down your face quicker than the way rivers flow. They soak into Charles’s left thigh and he lets out a “sh” to soothe you.

He continues to spank you until his hand hurts, until his skin is aching but not as much as you are in pain; and even then he didn’t want to stop. He feels your arousal leaking out of you like a waterfall, slickness coating your inner thighs and his towel. He can’t deny the fact that he’s so aroused that his cock hurts. It throbs and weeps, pre-cum leaking from the tip and the clear fluid stains his blue towel. “Shh, it’s okay now, baby. I’m all done now, Daddy’s finished.” He lifts you up with ease -- large muscles bulging -- and he settles you onto his lap. You wrap your legs around his well-built torso and the squelching sounds from your pussy makes you furrow your eyebrows. Your wet pussy rests right on top of his hard cock and the tingles are stronger than they’ve ever been.

You push your tear-soaked face into the crook of his neck, sobbing at the immense pain that radiated from your butt. He runs his hands over the bruised skin and whispers sweet nothings to you -- they aren’t nothing to you, though. You soon calm down and your pain dwindles down to nothing as you choose to ignore it. You look up at Charles and he looks at you, smirking at the love in your eyes. “Such a good girl, took your punishment so well.” He praises and you can’t help but to giggle at his words. Your face flushes with heat and you shy away from him. Involuntarily, your hips buck against Charles’s cock and you both let out lewd sounds. You moan softly and whimper, but Charles growls ferociously like a starved animal. Your pussy throbs at the sound and you whine loudly, clenching around nothing.

“What’s wrong baby? Hm? Tell Daddy what’s wrong and I’ll fix it.” He slurs slightly, moving your head from the crook of his neck. “The tingles…” You tell him, your voice small and weak. “Aw… Poor baby, you want Daddy to make your tingles go away?” He asks, pinching the bruised skin of your ass. You groan at the pain and your clit thrums under your panties. He fondles with the skirt of your dress and finds the zipper with his broad fingers. Slowly, he teasingly pulls it down and passes the soft fabric over your ass and down your beautiful legs. He throws the now pointless fabric onto the floor and admires the way your breasts bounce as they’re freed. He wants nothing more than to suck one of your hardened nipples into his mouth whilst he fucks you into oblivion.

But he has to wait, he needs to be patient.

He watches as goosebumps crawl all over your skin and he listens intently to the breathy moan you let out. Your nipples twist into harder peaks and they ache in such a way that you’re desperate to do anything so that you’re relieved of your tingles. Charles hooks his fingers into the band of your panties and he pulls them down, softly apologizing when you let out a whimper as the fabric passes over your bruised ass. You’re bare in front of him and you feel shy, slightly insecure under his gaze. You move the hands that were wrapped around him and you use them to cover up your naked body.

“No, no… Don’t do that baby, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He husks, roughly pushing your hands away from your body. “Daddy? I have a question…” You tell him, pure wonder and curiosity laced in your gentle voice. “Tell Daddy, go ahead baby.” He ushers, pressing a few kisses along your collarbone. “What that pointy, hard, big thingy there?” You ask innocently and Charles nearly chokes. What a fucking jackpot. “This, baby?” He asks, bringing your hand to wear his hard cock is. “Mhm! It’s very, very big… What’s it supposed to do?” Your words make Charles blush and you’ve truly flattered him. “That’s my cock, baby.” He tells you, and you can’t help but to repeat after him. “Your cock…” You whisper back and he nods.

“And it’s all yours baby, but you wanna know what isn’t yours?” He insinuates, and you nod desperately. One of his hands cups your bare, wet pussy and you moan at his touch. “This is mine, you’re mine.” He growls, unable to control the ferocious animal inside him. You nod in agreement and buck your hips against his hand, grinding yourself on him. “Shit… So slutty, hm? Just can’t help yourself, can you baby?” He degrades, groaning at the way your slick covers his hand. You gasp at the insult but also furrow your eyebrows with confusion at his second sentence. It then dawns on you as to what he means so you decide to nod in agreement and he chuckles at you.

He flips you over abruptly and you’re amazed at his strength -- even though you’ve ogled at his large muscles quite a bit beforehand. He crawls in between your legs and slots himself there. You’re forced to keep your legs open, even though you’re skeptical. It felt wrong… Maybe it was? “D- Daddy, is this wrong? I mean, it feels wrong…” You ask, looking down to your barren legs. “No baby, you’re doing great!” He answers incorrectly and you shake your head. “N- No… Not like that…” You whisper, scared to look at the burly man that knows you better than yourself.

“Baby… Do you think I’d let you do something bad? Hm? Never, this isn’t wrong… Everything I do is right!” He explains and then it dawns you. Everything he says is true and god, how dare you not believe him? He’s older, wiser and he knows better than you. “‘M sorry, Daddy!” You apologize, voice sincere and you’re ready to repent for all your sins. “It’s okay baby, just lay back and Daddy will make those tingles go away…” He whispers and you eagerly obey him. “Do you ever get tingles?” You ask him, parting your legs even wider than before. “Of course… I have tingles right now.” He tells you, his patience ebbing away at the edges. “Can I make them go away?” You follow up, your eyes brightening with interest and intrigue.

Charles lets out a coo, and he revels at how innocent and adorable you are. “Yeah, you wanna make my tingles go away?” He asks, his cock throbbing as millions of lewd, obscene thoughts run through his already twisted mind. “Yes please! Please Daddy?” You beg him desperately and he chuckles. “Such a needy little slut, aren’t you? You want my cock so bad…” He degrades and the words send a wave of neediness throughout you. A spark of confidence ignites in you and even though you don’t know much of what he said, you still choose to repeat them all after him. “Mhm, I’m such a needy slut for you, Daddy!” You squeal, and Charles can’t help but moan.

Suddenly, he wraps his large hand around your throat and squeezes the sides. You don’t know what succubus has possessed you but you let out a wanton, salacious moan anyways. He pulls you close to his face -- which was flushed red -- and he stares into your eyes. His beautiful, steel blue orbs are now blown out with lust but the feral look he gives you is just as good as the rest. “Such a dirty mouth, should I wash it out with soap? Or stuff it full with my cock?” He growls and smashes his lips against yours. The kiss is messy… It’s sloppy and you have no idea as to what you’re doing. You try to keep up with him and you easily let him dominate you.

His tongue explores your mouth and you try to do the same to him, but you just can’t. You whimper against his mouth and slick drenches your thighs. Years of pent up arousal only now coming back at ten-fold and the dam just breaks. He pulls away and puts you on your knees. You look up at him like a kicked puppy and he swipes his thumb across your bottom lip. Both of your chests heave and you’re face to face with his cock. He pulls the towel away and you gasp, earning a chuckle from Charles.”Daddy… It’s so big…” You tell him and he’s flattered. “Thank you, baby. I’m truly flattered, do you want to touch it?” He says, smiling down at you. “Yes please! But- but, how?” You ask him, a bit nervous but also excited.

He takes your hand and brings it up to his cock. His other hand plays with your fingers until they’re wrapped around him. It was hard and hot under your soft touch. It throbs and thrums, veins trailing the sides and his aching tip weeps with pearls of pre-cum. The slick stickiness of it rolls down his cock and soaks your hand. You can barely fit him in your hand, his cock being impossibly thick. He groans under your touch and he places his hands on the back of your head. Roughly, he guides your mouth towards his cock and shoves it past your spit covered lips. You gag and try to push against him -- a silent way of telling him “no, it’s too much.”

But he only just pushes your hands away and thrusts his cock deeper into your mouth. His manly flavour fills your mouth -- soaks in your tongue and you find yourself falling in love with it. Lewd gags and chokes reverberate around the room and they’re music to Charles’s ears. His cock is all the way down your throat and you’re struggling to breath, but that doesn’t matter. He moans loudly and then abruptly pulls his cock out from your mouth. You gasp for air and take in a deep breath before smiling up at him. His cock glistens with spit and you’re ready to take him again. Your jaw already hurts but it’s okay. “Shit, so good. You look so fucking gorgeous with my cock stuffing your mouth, can’t wait to see you covered with my cum.” He groans, holding your chin up.

You tilt your head to the side in confusion, not understanding one of the words. “You see, baby, when you make the tingles go away just like that then something will fill up your mouth -- and you’re going to have to swallow it, okay? Can you be a good girl and do that?” He tells you and you immediately nod your head. “Good.” He nods, before squeezing your jaw open with one of his strong hands. Your mouth pops open and is soon filled with his cock once again -- your gags spurring him on. Saliva and drool leaks from your mouth in waterfalls, and so does your tears. He bobs your head up and down his cock, moaning loudly and cursing under his breath. “Oh fuck, yes yes, your mouth feels so good!” He shouts loudly, the praise going straight to your aching pussy.

“C’mon baby, suck my cock like one of those cherry popsicles I bought you, use your tongue.” He orders and you obey. You hollow your cheeks out to the best of your ability -- not knowing what you’re doing. Your tongue weakly drags along underneath of his cock and it bumps up a few throbbing veins every now and then. You spread your legs and sway your hips back and forth against the bed and you don’t even realize what you’re doing -- but Charles does. The head of his cock bumps up against the back of your throat and you let out a moan, sending him closer and closer to his release. Spit travels everywhere and strings of it are leaking down to your chest. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum… And you’re going to swallow it all up, right? That’s all you’re good for, just a cocksleeve for me to use- fuck, just to make Daddy feel good.” He growls like an animal, thrusting his hips into your mouth.

He fucks your mouth at a brutal pace, his heavy, swollen balls slapping your spit-soaked chin. He grips your head tightly and then his hips still. His balls tighten up and a groan rumbles in his chest. “Oh fuck, yes yes yes!” He moans as he hits his climax. Warmth fills your mouth and his cock spurts out thick, white ropes of cum. His cum slips down your throat but also fills up your mouth. The copious amounts of his cream leaks out of your mouth and drips down to your chest. Charles thrusts his cock into your mouth a few more times, dragging out his orgasm until he’s almost on the brink of being overstimulated. He slowly pulls it out of your mouth and your jaw aches immensely.

He reaches up and softly massages your face, easing the pain away. “Thank you, Daddy…” You whisper out, your voice all hoarse yet still so soft. “You’re welcome, baby.” He smirks down at your tired face. “I like that a lot, Daddy… I like making your tingles go away!” You shyly admit -- flustered and even more aroused than ever. “That’s the point my dumb little baby, you’re supposed to like pleasing Daddy!” He tells you and you let out a gasp of realization at his words. “Now lay back, kitten, Daddy needs to make your tingles go away.” He pushes you back against the soft bed and spreads your legs wide open. Your slick has leaked everywhere -- all over your thighs, on the bed sheets and down to your butt too.

He rubs your glistening folds with his fingers and your wetness nearly drowns his digits. A searing, hot, burning feeling comes alive in your pussy and you let out a loud moan. Your body heats up at the pleasure and you’re hot to the touch. He teases you, fingers running through your folds, dancing around your clit and they also prod at your incredibly tight hole. “Daddy… That feels so good!” You moan out loudly, your doe eyes rolling back into your skull. “Yeah it does, just wait until I fuck you -- God it’s going to be amazing.” He groans, rubbing your clit in soft circles. More slick drools out of your hole as he plays with your sensitive pearl of nerves. Pleasure shoots up your spin and you’re unable to describe what the feeling is like, but you’re sure it’s something sent from heaven.

You can’t stop moaning as his fingers bring you closer and closer to your release. “D- Daddy? I feel like I uh, like I need to use the bathroom!” You sheepishly tell him, and he lets out a coo. “No you don’t, it’s going to make the tingles go away baby, you’re going to like this a lot.” He growls, rubbing your clit even harder and faster. A searing flame spears through your stomach and the knot that inside your tightens up. Your moans of pleasure grow loud, maybe a bit too loud for Charles’s taste. He shoves his other fingers into your mouth to quiet you, and you immediately suck them just as if they're his cock. The sight makes Charles even harder than before, as he hadn’t become flaccid yet. Your back arches off the bed and your eyes shut tightly as you cum for the first time ever.

“Oh Daddy!” You shriek behind his fingers, the knot inside you bursting. More stronger tingles pierce through your poor spent body and your clit is throbbing. Slightly creamy, almost clear cum leaks out of you and the feeling becomes too much for you. He continues to rub your button, and your body squirms immensely. You feel like you should tell him to stop but you know you shouldn’t. “There you go, my slutty little baby… You liked that a lot? I know you did.” He coos, making you heat up from his attention. Your cunt is coated with your cum and it drips everywhere, the sight makes Charles go feral. You clench around nothing, pulsing with pleasure. He soaks his fingers with your cum, absolutely drenching them until your pussy is a bit more cleaner than before.

He brings those same digits up to his mouth and sucks your delicious, sweet cum off. He moans around his fingers and stares at you dead in your doe eyes. You whimper and feel more wetness gush out of you, your tingles coming back once again. You spread your legs a bit wider and Charles already knows that you want him to help out. “What do you want, baby? Hm? You gotta tell me, or else I can’t help you out.” He husks salaciously after pulling his fingers out of his mouth with a sounding ‘pop’. “I have more tingles, Daddy… Can you make them go away?” You shy ask, slightly ashamed yet so goddamn barren. Your words are mumbled and garbled, as his fingers still occupy your mouth.

“Of course my little whore, anything for you.” He grins at you, his pearly whites making you giggle with butterflies in your stomach. His fingers are now spit soaked, adding onto the slick that pours out of you. This time, prods at your tight hole and your whimper. “D- Daddy, that feels funny… Kinda like that, that thing that happened… Why did stuff come out of me? Is it good?” You ask behind his digits that are soon pulled out. Wet fingers caress your beautiful, innocent face and he simply chuckles. “It felt good though, right? That’s supposed to happen, and that wet stuff is perfectly normal… It’s like sweet syrup, okay?” He shuts down your pondering mind and you nod your head.

He pushes two fingers into your spasming cunt, making you unexpectedly shriek. “Oh!” You moan deliciously as Charles quickly finds your sweet spot. Your entire body is filled with immense pleasure and Charles begins to pull his finger out. You squeeze him tightly and all he can think about is stretching you out with his thick cock. “Felt full…” You whisper to yourself, and he quickly pushes two digits into you. You let out whimpers of pain and pleasure from the stretch and he scissors you open slightly. You don’t know what to do with your empty, sweaty hands except for gripping the bed with them. Beneath your fingers is crumpled cloth and your arch your back off of it.

He pushes his fingers deeper, filling you up to the hilt. They're pressed up against your g-spot and he begins to thrust his fingers at a rapid pace. His palm rubs your little clit and you can’t control your loud moans. The obscene, wet sounds of your pussy makes a flush of blood flow to Charles’s cock. It swells with arousal and he can’t take it anymore. His other hand goes up to his cock and he begins to stroke himself at the same pace as his fingers. Your silky walls squeeze his fingers and sticky wetness coats them. Charles groans as you clamp down on his long digits. The hand on his cock speeds up and you watch him as he chases his release. It’s a sight that you just can’t tear your eyes away from. You feel that intense build up again — impending fireworks ready to burst in the sky. Broken pleas leave your mouth, litanies of please please please and Daddy Daddy Daddy.

He speeds up both his hands and you’re soon creaming around his fingers. You cum with a scream of euphoria, “Daddy!” You clench down on him tightly and your cum leaks everywhere. Your pussy throbs and he fucks you with his fingers until you’re overstimulated. You unconsciously grind against his hand and your clit is overwrought from the two powerful orgasms. Your heart pounds heavily and your chest heaves as you try to come down from your high. He takes his fingers out of your worn out cunt and shoves them in your mouth. “Suck them, yeah, just like my cock!” He growls, speeding up his hand on his cock. His foreskin peels back and forth, and beads of cum and pre-cum drip onto you. With a shout and growl, white strokes of hot, sticky cum lands on your skin. You moan at the lovely feeling and he just admires the sight of you covered in cum. Beautiful.

Days pass and you’re on the edge, but so is Charles. He can barely control himself from jerking off almost everyday ever since that afternoon after the bath. The sight of you sucking his cock and fingers, hearing you moan, watching you cum and oh the innocence you still have makes him harder than a rock. You’re no better, though. Ever since then you’ve been insatiable. You linger around Charles all the time, following him around like a shadow of his. The tingles haven’t ceased either, no. They’ve come back even more and you want your Daddy to make them go away. You want him to make you feel good and you want to return the favour so fucking badly. “Daddy… I have tingles!” You whine needily, dragging your feet behind you as if you’ve been raised with no manners. “I know baby, but you gotta shut the mouth of yours up and let me do my work!” He growls, the ever impending arrival of your mother being today.

You flinch at his tone but your panties slicken up at it too. You continue to waddle behind him, not even paying attention to how he was searching for all your treasured goods. “Please, Daddy? Please, please, please? I have so many tingles! Do you have any tingles? If you do, can I make you feel good? I think I got better at sucking my cherry popsicles, can I please suck your uh- your thing? I’ll be good at it, I swear-” You ramble on and on until Charles cuts you off with his booming voice. “I said that’s enough! Not another goddamn word!” He yells at you so harshly that you’re on the verge of crying on the spot. His cheeks are shaking with anger and frustration and his face is flushed with heat.

You open your mouth to apologize to him but the hand that is now wrapped around your neck stops you from doing so. “Are you too much of a dumb slut to understand? So desperate for attention, and you just wanna cum so bad… Tsk tsk, such a whore. You want Daddy’s cock so bad, you don’t care if he’s busy, right? Aw, don’t cry now… Daddy wants to see you cry when you’re choking on his big fat cock, I want to see you cry while you’re cumming over, and over, over…” He ferociously whispers in your ear, making you gulp in fear. He squeezes your throat even tighter and you gently wrap your hands around his wrist. You struggle to breath but you also can’t help but to enjoy the feeling of him choking you. You whimper at his words and rub your thighs, thinking about how he can make you feel good. “Nuh uh, none of that.” He wedges a thigh between your legs and rests your cunt on it.

He moves his thigh back and forth, clenching the muscles in it to make the friction increase and a breathy moan catches in your throat. You whimper and instinctively, you grind yourself against his well-built thigh. Pleasure blossoms from through your core and Charles stops moving his thigh — leaving you as a whining, needy mess. “No, Daddy’s not going to let you cum at all, and don’t even think about trying to convince me. You’re a bad, slutty little whore — And you need to be punished. Go to your room, and if I hear you crying then I’m going to bruise your ass.” He snarls, ending his long string of words with a sharp spankl to your butt — a warning. He lets go of your neck and you bolt past him, locking yourself in your quaint yet luxurious room until your mother comes home.

Your mother comes home — chaotic and stressed out. Being a large person in the highest of society was tough. She locks her lips against Charles and jealousy’s big, ugly, green head rears itself from behind you. You watch through the cracked door and your mother hurries to get ready for drinking with Mrs. Dubois and Mrs. Caroline -- two of her many rich friends. You feel hurt when she doesn’t search for you, a pang in your sweet heart but you ignore it. You want to step out of your room to go visit her, but you don’t want to upset Charles again. You remind yourself that he’s your step father, and your mind wanders to all sorts of doubts. Was this wrong? Sometimes it felt wrong… But Charles would never do anything wrong! You giggle away at your silly mind, oh how it would come up with the most absurd things.

You watch her leave and sigh heavily to yourself before plopping down on your bed. Swinging your legs back and forth, your tingles still there in your pussy. Your tits ache and you kick yourself for poking at Charles. A knock on the door startles you —two raps that are harsh. You hesitate from getting up to open the door, but after two more raps you decide that it’s for the best. “Baby? Open up, Daddy’s ready to play now.” he calls out from the other side, a devil luring you to commit sin after sin. You giggle with both glee and excitement, ready for playtime with him. You open the door with a smile on your face and then you gasp at the large stack of gifts that Charles was holding in his arms. “Hi, Cha- Daddy…” You say breathlessly, meeting your eyes with his silver-blue ones. They’re blown out — just like how they usually are whenever you see him.

They hold a certain darkness that you’ve never seen before, a sort of storminess that you’d love to revel in. “Hi, baby… Let me in now, I have the rest of the night planned out for us and I’d hate to have to punish you for bad manners.” He says with a sweet baritone, but his threat is bitter. You’re easily charmed, though and you don’t even pay attention to his warning. You let him in and shut the door behind yourself. “I’m so sorry, Daddy! I’m sorry I was annoying you- I just had tingles and I wanted you to help out, that’s all!” You apologize, wrapping your arms around him before he could say anything. You nuzzle your nose in the crook of his neck and he urges you to sit on his lap — your favourite seat ever. “Mhm, I know you’re sorry baby, thank you for apologizing so nicely. As much as I like seeing you in pain, I just can’t do that to my sweet little girl.” He whispers in your ear, before kissing your cheeks.

“Do you forgive me, Daddy? Are you still mad at me?” You pull away and look him in the eyes, demanding honesty. “Of course I forgive you, baby… You’re such a good girl! Look at what I got you, I bought you some gifts.” He smiles at you sweetly and your insides flip with happiness. You squeal and immediately thank him, before trying to give him a kiss on the cheek just like how he did to you. He hands you a box and you immediately unwrap the floral wrapping paper. Your furrow your eyebrows in confusion but are grateful nevertheless. “D- Daddy, what’s this?” You ask him, handing him the box. Inside is something that resembles a microphone. It is a pastel pink and has a few buttons. “This is a magic wand, baby! Like the ones that fairies have, and this one can make you feel really good.” He explains, and hands you another small box. Inside are batteries — something that your mother told you not to mess with. You whimper and gasp before handing them to him. You wiggle yourself further into his lap and wait for him to set up your wand.

He hands it to you and it’s quite weighty, but you take it anyways. “Whenever you get tingles, Daddy can use this on your little button — okay? But we’ll save this for another time. You like Daddy’s thighs, don’t you?” He asks, taking the wand away from you. You sheepishly nod and wiggle in his lap again. He grips your waist tightly and squeezes, before moving you so that you’d straddle his left thigh. He clenches the muscles in his thigh and the already stiff muscle becomes even harder. Charles’s large cock bulges through his pants, all hard and aching already. “You like that, baby?” He asks again, reaching his hands up your dress and tearing away your cotton panties. “Mhm!” You nod harshly, your cunt sopping and drooling. He drags you back and forth slowly and the arms that are wrapped around him squeeze even tighter.

Your clit grinds against the rough material of his pants and he moves you back and forth. He bounces the same thigh slightly and a series of moans rumble through you. “O- Oh my… Daddy, that feels s- so, hng, good.” You whisper, moans cutting through almost every word you utter. “Look at you, a dripping mess all over my thigh. Can’t help it, hm? Just feels so good, only Daddy can make you so slutty.” He groans in your ear, before sucking a few hickies across the bare skin on your neck. Your eyes roll back into your skull at the euphoric feeling. “Look at you, all dumb and stupid, just drooling at the thought of being my slut.” He chides, smearing the saliva that leaks from your mouth. “Daddy, I have lots of tingles now!” You squeal as he presses you further down on his thigh. A burning feeling spreads across your pussy and abdomen and your drooling hole clenches around nothing.

“Yeah, baby, I bet it feels so good, right?” He purrs, moving one of his strong hands to your ass. He gives you a few spanks, pushing you closer to your release. “I think that thing is happening again… Those fireworks!” You tell you, gasping and moaning at the pain and pleasure. “Fuck, got me so hard right now.” He groans, roughly grabbing one of your hands to palm his cock. “Feel that, baby? That’s all for you and your slutty pussy. All yours- God, fuck” He swears after you accidentally rub your hand over his cock and squeeze it. You let out an extremely loud moan, not even caring if anyone was home. The staff was gone and so was your mother, so who are you to care? “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” You cry out as your beautiful face frowns in pleasure.

You can feel that high building up and Charles grinds his clothed cock into your hand. “Go on, cum, cum all over my thigh like the needy little baby you are. God, everyone in this damn town would be so ashamed to know you’re such a whore for your Daddy’s cock. And I bet you don’t care, do you? You just can’t get enough of me, cumming all the time, making a mess of that pussy of yours…” He growls at you, his words making you gasp and moan. He continues to rub your pussy against his thigh even though you’re pushing at him slightly. “Daddy, the tingles are too much,” you whine desperately, trying to writhe and push away from him but only worsening the tingles. “Shh…” Charles sibilates, holding you still even though your fussing didn’t stop.

Tremors claim your body and Charles drags your pussy against his thigh even harder. You fall against his chest and the fight in you leaves your body. A lewd, guttural moan leaves your mouth and you’re cumming all over his thigh. “Oh Daddy!” You squeal as pleasure overtakes your body. Your cunt throbs and you’ve soaked his pants completely. Charles gets harder at the sight of you cumming all over him. Your cunt gushes all over his pants and you’re moaning loudly. “Good girl, such a good girl for Daddy!” He praises, smiling at your writing form. You gasp as he continues to rub your pussy on his thigh, letting you ride out your orgasm and slightly overstimulating you. You babble like a baby and your grip on him is flimsy at this point. Your chest heaves and he lifts you off his thigh.

Suddenly, you’re kneeling on the ground and he’s freeing his cock from the confinements of his pants. It’s leaking, crying fat beads of clear pre-cum and suddenly you remember his husky, mainly taste on your tongue. “It’s your c- c…” You’re not sure whether or not you should say it, so you decide to keep your mouth shut. He laughs at you and his cock is a raging red, almost purple. He brings you a little closer to his cock and your face to face with it. Your mouth salivates at the sight of it and you want nothing more than to suck him off. He slaps his heavy cock against your cheek, once, twice, three times. You moan at the delicious pain and it sends a rush of blood to his cock again. He begins to stroke himself in front of you, knowing that you crave him in your mouth so desperately. “Look at me, baby. Watch Daddy jerk himself off, yeah, just like that. You want my cock so bad, don’t you? In due time baby, don’t worry.” He tells you in between moans.

You feel more tingles building up in your pussy and more wetness leaking out of you. You impulsively open your mouth up, ready to welcome his cock. But instead he shoves two fingers into your mouth and you take them delightfully. His digits are soon covered in spit and his pre-cum has been smeared all over his cock. He begins to pump his hand up and down -- base to tip. His thumb occasionally swipes over his leaking tip and he moans throatily. “Can I help you out, Daddy? Please?” You beg with puppy eyes, and he just can’t resist. Though your words are garbled, he still knows what you need. He keeps his two fingers in your mouth and takes his hand off of his cock. It bounces up and slaps against his stomach, weighty and thick. He grabs one of your hands and guides it until it’s wrapped around his cock.

It’s heavy in your hands but God, are you grateful to have it all for yourself. You try to mimic his movements, moving your hand up and down even though you don’t have a good grip on him. He moans loudly as your thumb accidentally swipes over his red tip. He further pushes his fingers into your mouth until you’re choking on his digits. “Oh, god, yes…” He groans, and your mind rewinds to the times where the priest from church always told you that anything involving private parts is wrong. The memory makes you stutter and your morals are now conflicted. He takes notice to the slowly disappearing eagerness you had. “Oh baby, do you think Daddy’ll ever let you do something bad? Never, everything they tell you... it’s all lies, okay? Daddy knows what’s best, and you should listen to Daddy. Now stroke me just like how I was, okay?” He tells you, pushing his fingers against your gag reflex.

You once again mirror his movements, enjoying the fact that you’re the reason as to why his tingles would go away. You quicken up your movements on his cock, and he asks, no, he orders you to tighten your hand and you’re trying your hardest. “Now twist your hand a bit, baby, and move a bit quicker.” He gruffs, and you try to do as you’re told. Your hand moves in corkscrew-like motions and Charles begins to grind into your palm. His cock throbs and twitches under your touch and his balls are slowly beginning to tighten up. His fingers swirl in your mouth and your other hand comes up to cradle his swollen, heavy balls. He lets out a guttural moan and more pre-cum drips from his tip and stains your soft skin. “Oh god…” He groans and he hits his release. Hot spurts of thick cum drips from his tip and copious amounts of it leaks everywhere. You continue to stroke him until he tells you to stop, and even then you don’t want to.

He takes his hand out of your mouth and guides you to his cock. “Clean Daddy up, yeah… That’s it, lick up all my cum... Tastes so good right? Swallow it all like a good girl.” He commands and you greedily lap up all his cum. You’re addicted to the taste, even though it’s slightly peculiar. Salty yet sweet, manly and husky. You try your best to clean him up until he’s satisfied, You smile up at him shyly, staying in your place on your knees as you wait for your next order. You watch as his cock slowly begins to soften and as he shoves it into his boxers. Your gaze lands on the gigantic wet spot on his grey linen pants and your eyes bulge out in shock. He looks down to his thigh and back to you before chuckling in such a swooning way. “Look at the mess you made, baby!” He cooes, reminding you of the way you were grinding on his thigh like it was a normal thing to do. You’re flustered and you shy away from him, embarrassed with all the attention. “Aw, don’t be coy now; you were just riding my thigh like a bitch in heat, and now you wanna be innocent?”

The blunt scent of smoke fills the room with ease. Charles sighs in delight, knowing that his plan was taking place at the very moment. You sit between his feet, re-reading the letter that Charles has given you. “She’s gone already? Didn’t she just come back, Daddy? We haven’t even spent time as a family yet!” You cry out in both distress and sadness as Charles continues to take a drag from his pipe. He smoothes a soothing hand over your hair and tears begin to fall from your eyes. She’s gone for two darn months? There’s no way you’ll be able to handle that! You stifle your sobs to your best ability and oh how Charles’s cock throbs at both the sound and the sight of you crying. “Don’t you feel sad, Daddy?” You ask through your tears, hiccuping and sobbing.

“No, baby. Do you wanna know why? It’s because I support whatever your mother wants to do… And you should too, baby. Now stop being a crybaby and let me take your mind off it, Daddy has some things to tell you.” He shuts you up and puts out his pipe before pulling you onto his lap. You gladly let him do so and he wipes your tears away for you. He lets out a breathy chuckle and smiles, before kissing the tip of your nose. “If I see you crying then I’ll put you over my knee, okay? None of that right now.” He orders, and you sheepishly nod. You hate being over his knee just as much as he loves it. You quickly blink away any forthcoming tears before your bottom is bruised up. “Have you ever been to Italy? It’s quite the beauty, to be frank.” He begins and your ears perk up.

“I have, and it’s quite lovely. There’s nothing as beautiful as the sunset in Florence from the top of the dorm room… It’s the most exquisite sight, I’ll take you some day.” He reminisces, staring at nothing as he recalls the lovely trip. “Oh, to bask in that lovely sunlight again would be delightful, and to drive down the streets as it rains…” He sighs blissfully and you let your imagination run wild. Images of you in Charles’s car brings you joy and you can’t help but to hum in agreement. “Mother always tells me about Italy, mostly about the stores and beautiful men but I’ve always liked the scenery.” You tell him, and he nods as he listens to you speak. You continue, “I’ve seen paintings, and photographs! I have a few cousins that live there too, I love it whenever they phone us and tell me about their home.” You giggle to yourself as you remember all those times.

Charles grabs your chin gently and makes you face him. You look into his eyes and then to his lips. They’re plump and pink and all you’d like to do is to press your own against them. You’ve always liked his kisses, no matter what. The ones on your hands, legs, shoulders but god do you love the ones he leaves on the inside of your thighs. You shiver at the memory of him kneeling down and spreading your legs wide open. As if he could read your mind, his other hand begins to run up and down your thigh. You’re both insatiable -- addictive and you can’t get enough of each other. “Are you close with your cousins, baby?” He asks out of the blue. You clear your throat before responding. “Ahem, uh, we were before Mother married for the third time, I think they should let her be!” He’s told. Your cute lips have formed and slight pout and all he wants to do is bite and suck on them until you’d tell him to stop.

“So you don’t talk to anyone else in your family?” He questions you, raising his eyebrows high up to the sky. “No…” You sigh and start playing with Charles’s fingers. “Uh huh…” He nods, letting your words sink in. You trace little invisible shapes on his hand, slightly ticking the brooding man. “Can you take me to Italy, Daddy? I would truly love to visit!” You ask suddenly, pouting at him. “Sure, baby, but you have to let me do a few things to you first, okay?” He negotiates, and you easily agree to whatever conditions he has for you. “Of course, I’ll do anything for you, Daddy!” You exclaim, accidentally putting an emphasis on ‘anything’. He smirks and cracks his knuckles. The pops make you cringe and squeem in his lap, earning yourself a slap to your thigh.

“Go get the gift I have for you, and be quick, you know I don’t like waiting for too long.” He warns you warily. You quickly dash up to your room, bare feet pattering against the hardwood floors like rain falling on an umbrella. You ravage through your closet and pull out the box before running back downstairs. Your dress gets caught on a piece of stray wood that had been broken from when the butlers were bringing in the new furniture and you huff in annoyance. You impatient yank the cloth from the wood and wince as it rips. You turn on your heels and continue to rush back to the smoke room where Charles was. You pant heavily and struggle to form any words, making Charles chuckle. “What happened to your dress, baby?” He asks, furrowing his eyebrows. You look down and suck in a sharp breath, not realizing that the rip was that bad.

“It had gotten caught on some broken wood…” You admit under your breath. “Hm?” He asks again, not hearing what you said. “It had gotten caught on some broken wood, Daddy… I’m sorry!” You repeat a bit louder, adding an apology at the end. Truth be told, you’re slightly terrified of Charles as anyone would be. “Aw, you’re so clumsy and stupid aren’t you? Just destroying your clothes as a dumb baby would.” He tuts, taunting you and your accident. “Don’t worry baby, Daddy is going to take care of you and that stupid cunt of yours.” He growls, making you gulp. You don’t even think about the overwhelming tingles that have taken your core -- no, instead you think about what he could possibly do next. He pulls the left strap of your dress down, revealing your bare breast. He is closer to you than before and you can’t even remember when he had gotten up from his seat.

He smiles down and you and you look up at him with your lips slightly parted. He does the same to the other strap and exposes your chest for himself and himself only. Cool air hits your tits and your peaks turn rock hard. They twist up painfully and ache for him and his delightful touch. You lose your breath for a few seconds and he pinches your nipples and plays with them -- and you accidentally end up dropping the box. He tuts at you again and you’re quick to pick it up before he takes it away from you. “Such a stupid baby, you need Daddy to help you out because you can’t do anything right, hm? Other than sucking my cock, of course.” He degrades, making you whimper. He guides you to the throne-like chair and makes you sit down. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion and tilt your head at him as he gets down on his knees.

He places the box next to him and spreads your bare legs far apart from each other. He hikes up your dress to your waist and lets out a coo as he spots the evident wetness that has soaked through your panties. The light beige cloth is tarnished and he’s the reason why. “Daddy… What are you doing?” You nervously ask him as you crane your head down to look at him. He looks up at you with an almost devilish smirk and hooks his fingers into your panties before pulling them down your legs. He admires the healed cuts and bruises that probably came from your childhood. He throws your panties behind him and places your legs onto his strong shoulders. You’re not sure what he’s about to do and millions of questions run through your mind.

“Daddy, wh- what are you doing?” You question him, watching as his tongue runs over his plump pink lips. His nips at your thighs -- biting, kissing, and bruising the skin. Arousal leaks from you and smears onto your pussy. He inches his face closer and closer to your pussy before finally answering your question. “I’m going to taste your cute little cunt, baby.” He bluntly tells you before licking a fat stripe up your cunt. “Hu- Oh!” You let out a lewd moan and tangle your fingers in his fluffy caramel hair. The feeling is overwhelming as Charles laps up your wetness even though each lick makes more leak from your drooling hole. He drinks up everything you have to offer like an animal, wanting more and more from you. His tongue travels through your folds, just barely brushing over your clit and you’re writhing above him.

The lewd sounds of his mouth on your pussy echo throughout the rooms but are soon drowned out by your moans. Suddenly, he latches his lips onto your swollen clit and sucks hard. Stars fill your vision at the unfamiliar feeling and you accidentally buck your hips up. He growls in your pussy and slams your hips back down before laying a heavy hand on your lower abdomen. His tongue swirls around your bud and flicks over your clit. You feel dizzy and his tongue and lips continue to send you into oblivion. You slightly tug on his hair and another growl rumbles from Charles, pushing you closer to your release. The fireworks aren’t sparking as much as you’d like them to and you feel empty. Under Charles’s strong arm, you wiggle your hips as you spew alphabetical nonsense.

“Daddy…” You moan out, your voice soft and sweet. He knows what you want but god -- seeing you all needy and desperate makes him even harder than a rock. He relents his sucking on your clit and you whine until he runs his middle finger through your wet cunt. He lightly flicks your clit with his tongue as he suddenly pushes his long digit into your cunt. He quickly finds your g-spot and the build up inside you hits its limit. You cum with a guttural shriek and he continues to abuse your poor cunt with his mouth and finger. Your pussy clenches around his finger and your clit throbs under his tongue as cum gushes out of you. He drinks it all up and stares right at you as he does so. Your sweet taste fills his mouth and he craves you even more -- but his cock is far too hard for him to do anything else.

He pulls his head away from your pussy and looks up at you again. He watches you as he pulls his cum-coated finger out of you and he shoves said finger past your lips. Your taste fills your mouth -- sweet yet a little bitter. It’s a stark contrast from his taste as it was more husky and manly. His finger leaves your mouth with a distinct ‘pop!’ and you look up at him with a face that just begs to him. He latches his lips onto yours and kisses you ferociously. Charles lifts you up from the chair and your sensitive pussy presses against him by accident. You whimper at the unexpected feeling and cry out against his lips. “Daddy! D- Daddy…” You try to keep up with his lips but you can’t, so you decide to give up. His tongue searches your mouth and he occasionally sucks on yours. He’s so experienced, he knows exactly what he’s doing. He knows how to make you easily submit to him, he knows when to nip at your swollen lips and he knows exactly what you need.

He carries you to your bedroom, each step of his adding friction to your pussy. You’re sopping wet and you’re so damn needy for him. You whine against his lips and he pulls away as he climbs the steps. Strong, veiny hands squeeze your ass roughly and his marriage ring digs into your skin. You look ruined -- dress torn and your tits exposed, lips plump and hair disheveled and your cunt is rubbing against Charles. He enters your room and throws you on the bed. You look up at him and he rips your dress off of your body roughly. He pulls the pink wand out from the pocket of his pants and you realize you had forgotten about it. He sets it on the bed and quickly undresses himself, desperate to relieve his ache. You watch him intently, spreading your legs out of instinct and you can feel more wetness dripping out of you.

You can’t keep your eyes off of him, the sight so enticing. Bulging muscles and a beautifully sculpted face that you could look at forever. He crawls on top of you and puts his hands around your head. He’s left in only his boxers and you can see how hard he is. He’s huge, and sometimes when you think about his cock you can barely get the size right. “Daddy… What are we going to do now?” You ask sweetly, looking up at him. “Daddy’s going to take your innocence away, baby. I’m going to ruin you, turn you into my little minx.” He tells you bluntly, cutting right to the chase. You unconsciously moan at his words and your pussy clenches at the thought of him ruining you. What would that entail? He growls lowly in your ear before attaching his lips to the sweet spot of your neck.

He sucks a hickey onto your skin -- licking, biting, sucking like it’s a hobby of his. You moan at the sensation and he chuckles against your neck. “So sensitive… God, what am I going to do with you, baby?” He sighs, asking himself a question only he knows the answer to. “You can do whatever you want, Daddy! Anything you do is right!” You giggle, answering his question. He groans and a rush of blood heads straight to his cock. He pulls his boxers down, sliding them over his built thighs and past his legs. You watch carefully as his cock bounces up and slaps his lower abdomen -- a sight you’ll never get used to but always love. He grabs the base and spreads your legs even wider. He slaps the tip of his cock on your clit, earning a squeal from you.

“Do you like that, baby doll?” He questions, slapping your clit again. You mewl and nod your head feverishly. You stare up at him and he looks down at you with a Cheshire smirk. He runs his cockhead through your wet folds, smearing the few drops of pre-cum that leaked from his slit. The large, bulbous tip teases your pussy. It bumps up against your clit and as soon as it prods at your tight hole, you feel a bit of panic. Your mother had told you all sorts of horrid stories about those types of things, but you never thought much of it. “Daddy, what are you doing?” You ask him, scrambling to hold one of his hands for comfort. You lace your fingers with his and he coos at how innocent and docile you are. “I’m going to turn you into my own little angel, okay baby? What’s wrong, hm?” He questions, squeezing your hand tightly.

“I- I’m scared… Do I have to do it, Daddy? I mean I really wanna do it! I’m just unsure, I guess…” You ramble adorably, looking deep in his eyes. His features don’t soften, no, because he knows that deep down inside, you'll do anything for him. “Baby, you’ll make me the happiest man alive if you do this! Don’t you want to make me happy like you always do? C’mon, baby doll, don’t make Daddy upset… You’ve been such a good girl for me! And I know how much you absolutely love being my good girl.” He frowns slightly, beginning to pull away from you. You quickly pull him back to you and Charles smiles at you. “I’d like to still be your good girl, Daddy! I’m sorry, I’ll be good, I swear!” You beg and apologize, tears glossing over your eyes. He shushes you and your chest heaves in a panicking manner.

“Hold onto my shoulders, baby, but don’t hurt me. Okay?” He orders, placing your hands there for you. You nod your head and easily obey his orders without a single peep of objection. He wraps his left hand around your neck, and his right hand goes back to grip his cock. Charles drags the fat tip up and down your wet pussy against, bumping your sensitive clit with it and covering it with your juices. He slowly drags his tip down to your hole and begins to push in, enticing a slightly muffled shriek from you. He shuts you up by pressing his lips on yours and squeezing your throat slightly. His thick cock pushes into you, stretching you out painfully. The burn of the stretch makes you squeeze his shoulders tightly and you whimper loudly into his lips. Charles moans loudly as he sheathes his cock completely into your cunt.

The stretch turns into a dull ache and it’s soon pleasurable. Your wet velvet walls hug his cock tightly, perfectly, as if you’re made for him and him only. “God, so damn tight. Just squeezing my cock like a little slut.” He groans, pulling away from your lips. Both of your faces are frowning in pleasure. He digs his fingers into your hip as he fully bottoms out. It felt like it would never end, as if he would keep pushing into you. Charles swears under his breath and savours the feeling of your pulsing walls squeezing his hard cock. You writhe under him, growing desperate. “Daddy… Please, please, please…” You beg, eyes rolling into your skull out of desperation. “So needy for my cock, just begging for it already…” He tuts and you feel your cunt flutter at his words. He pulls his cock all the way out from your wet pussy and it glistens with your wetness. You feel too empty, far too empty for both yours and Charles’s liking.

He suddenly pushes back into you and begins to pump in and out of your cunt without any warning. You moan loudly, litanies of “Daddy” continuously leaving your mouth like a mantra. His cock practically splits you in half and he fucks into you with a carefree pace. The sounds of skin on skin are drowned out by your moans and groans. His cock hammers against your poor g-spot, pummeling in and out of you with no relent. “Oh Dio, che puttana per il mio cazzo, eh? La mia puttana, solo la mia. Ti rovinerà per ogni altro uomo — anche se sei mia e solo mia.” He groans loudly, the foreign language igniting those fireworks in your core. “Oh Daddy! Oh- oh my…” You cry out, your body jerking with each thrust of his. Charles deepens his thrusts and his cock pummels against your cervix, making you cry out. He whispers a soft apology even though he loves seeing you in pain. He pulls out of your cunt, leaving you a needy, desperate, pathetic slutty mess under him.

The hand around your throat tightens a bit more, causing you to choke on your whines. He grabs the wand behind him and flicks it on, letting it come to life. Charles pinches the bottom of his cock to stave off his release, his balls swollen and heavy. He trails the wand on your inner thighs and watches as you let out a silent scream. “Pretty little angel, my angel… You’re so stupid for my cock, aren’t you? Don’t worry, Daddy’ll take care of you. He moves the hand that was on your throat down to his cock. He slaps the velvet tip on your pussy and runs it through your slit again. He pushes into you and continues to drag the wand along your body. The vibrations tease you and so do his slow thrusts. “P- Please, Daddy, it’s not enough for my tingles, please!” You beg, your hands still on his shoulders. He smiles down at you and lets out a coo, before turning off the wand and throwing it to the side.

“Mia bella sgualdrina, ora mi prenderò cura io di te. Ma ti prenderò a bordo, ti prenderò in giro e ti porterò al tuo rilascio più e più volte, solo perché mi piace vederti tutto più profondo per me.” He husks in your ear, before dragging his cock in and out of you even quicker. He throws one of your legs over his shoulder and fucks into you harshly. His swollen balls slap against your ass and his pelvis grinds against your clit — pushing you closer and closer to your release. He watches you fall apart under him, turning into a little whore just as he had planned. “Please, please, please, please, I want the fireworks so bad Daddy!” You beg, not even realizing that you’re talking. His cock throbs at your words and with one particularly hard thrust, you come undone. You bite back a scream as you cum all over his cock — coating it with your cum.

He looks down to where your bodies are connected and lets out a loud moan. The sight of your poor abused cunt being pounded by his cock makes him harder. He watches as your cunt clenches around him tightly and his grip on your hips becomes tighter. You squeeze his cock tightly and your chest heaves gravely and you’re overly sensitive. He snaps his hips into yours and occasionally grinds his cock into you, just to see you writhe. “You’re taking my big cock so fucking good, baby.” He husks in your ear, before letting out a moan that would make a nun blush. “I can hardly believe you’re taking it all, dove. I was so damn afraid it wouldn’t fit.” He groans, nudging his cock against your g-spot. Your eyes roll back into your skull. You nod your head, realizing that deep down you had thought the same thing. “Aw, too dumb to speak?” He asks tauntingly, bringing his hand to your clit.

He rubs your pearl of nerves that had been abused by his mouth. “I want to fill you up so bad, baby. I want to see you swell up with my seed… Want to see your belly grow with my baby, la mia piccola sgualdrinella.” He moans in your ear. His words set you off again and you arch your back off the bed as you hit your release for the third time in one day. You wriggle away from him as the fireworks become too much for you. You moan loudly and your pussy clamps down tightly on his cock. You squeeze him with all your might as you cream yourself around his cock. Charles shudders at the sights and swears in Italian under his breath. He rubs your clit even harder even though you’re shaking your head and trying to get away from his cock. “Don’t run away from me now, gattina… C’mon, I know you can’t handle my big fat cock, but don’t be like that…” He mopes before letting out his signature breathy chuckle.

You dig your nails into his shoulders as you continue to get railed by him. “Oh my god!” You squeal as you struggle to come down from your high. “C’mon dolce ragazza, give me one more…” He growls, making his thrusts slower and deeper. “Anything you w- want, Daddy.” You croak out between your pornographic moans. He swears he’s about to break you with how hard he’s gripping you, but he can’t find it in himself to stop. His cock head bumps up against your g-spot continuously and lewd, wet squelching sounds fill the room along with the smell of sex. A thin sheen of sweat covers his forehead and he’s panting non-stop. He grinds his cock into you, enticing a loud scream from you. He immediately clamps a hand over her mouth and presses his forehead to yours. “Shh, shh… Do it, cum on my cock, baby.” He growls, before letting out a loud moan.

You cum with a loud, incessant moan that’s muffled by his hand. Charles groans as his orgasm is triggered too. He pushes deep into your pussy and his cock stills. His balls tighten and your cunt clenches around him as you both cum at the same time. The feeling of his cum filling you up makes you moan pathetically. White, hot, stickiness coats your walls and fills you up to the brim, the never ending amount of it making you sigh is pleasure. Charles watches as some of his cum leaks past his cock and he’s instantly hard again. He waits until he fully comes down from his high before pulling out from your pussy. He’s not sure whether he should go for a second round or not, but you’ve already made up your mind. “Daddy… Can I have more, please? I love it so much, a- and I’d really like for you to help me with my tingles again!” You beg with puppy eyes and an irresistible pout.

He moans at your desperation and neediness before laughing breathlessly. “Oh la mia principessa, you’re already such a slut for my cock…” He smiles down at you and you just whine, making grabbing hands at him. He rolls you over and sits down with you straddling him. Charles’s cock is right against your used pussy and he drags the head through your soaking, cum-coated folds. “Please, please put your c- cock in me…” You beg in a hushed voice, falling onto his chest. He bucks his hips up and enters your pussy in one smooth thrust. One hand lifts you up slightly and the other wraps itself around your throat. “Oh please!” You beg even louder, your face all contorted in pleasure. A growl rumbles in his chest and he begins to fuck up into your pussy. You cry out, and feel tears stinging your eyes from the overwhelming feeling. Both yours and Charles’s cum leaks out of you and drips all over his cock and even leaks down to his balls.

“Cosi' dannatamente bisognoso, Dio. Non ne hai mai abbastanza del mio cazzo, eh? Voglio toccarti tutto il tempo, piccola, voglio vederti gonfiare con il mio sperma. Non vedo l'ora di vedere le tue tette riempirsi di latte, guardarle rimbalzare mentre ti scopo.” He moans softly, panting like a dog. You have no idea what he’s saying, but you just nod in agreement. He chuckles and squeezes your throat just to watch you squirm under his touch. “Oh my god, Daddy! That feels so good, please…” You whisper to him, and he moves his hand on your throat to your ass. He grabs the supple flesh before spanking you for fun, enjoying the way you whimper and clench around his cock. He spreads your butt cheeks and his ring finger dances over your puckered hole. He chuckles as you begin to panic, not even knowing what he’s doing.

He lets go and spanks your ass one more time before making sharper thrusts. He’s deeper than before and you can barely handle it. You dig your nails into his chest, leaving crescent shaped scars that he’ll look back on in the near future. Both of your moans become louder and more desperate, the fireworks in your cores intensifying slowly but surely. “You’re going to cum, aren’t you? Go ahead, do it, cum all over my big fat cock. I’ll fill you up again, don’t worry my little slut.” He smiles, ghosting his lips over yours. On command, you come undone around his cock again. You squeeze him tightly and grind down on his cock on instinct, earning a loud moan from Charles. He spanks your ass again and the delicious sting has you cumming harder. You coat his cock with your juices and tiredness takes you over. You let him rail into you non stop — even though there’s a tinge of blood mixed with your shared cum.

“Oh don’t tell me you’re done already, baby. Daddy’s not even finished with you, yet. We’ll have all the time in the world baby, don’t worry. I’m going to breed you with my seed once we get to Italy, gonna make you needy for my cock all the time; it’s going to be the only thing on your innocent mind.” Charles promises, and you only smile and nod at your Daddy. He groans under you and you can hear the rumbles of it in his chest. “Please f- fill me up, Daddy!” You beg, not even knowing what you’re asking him to do. He lets out a moan at your words and begins to bounce you up and down his long, thick cock. He drives his cock in and out of you incessantly, chasing his orgasm for the second time and you’re whining loudly.

“Oh god, I’m going to cum so fucking hard baby, I’m going to fill you up just like you want me to… Fuck yes!” He shouts, watching as your tits bounce with his each and every movement. He stills and brings you down on his cock, painting your walls with his sticky, copious amounts of cum. He watches as it leaks past his cock that is stuffed in your abused pussy. He rubs your overwrought clit just to see you in pain, before pulling his hand away. You both sigh and Charles rubs his nose against yours, making you bubble in giggles. “Daddy?” You call out to him after a few moments of peaceful silence. “Yes, baby?” He answers, smiling down at you wickedly. “I… I love you…” You whisper to him, before breaking out in a smile. He lets out a hearty chuckle that you’re all but used to.

“Oh princess, if only you knew.”

3K notes · View notes

helloalycia · 4 years ago

Text

girl next door [one] // wanda maximoff

summary: somebody new moves into the flat next to yours and you feel the need to introduce yourself, only to learn she's not very talkative

warning/s: none i don’t think??

author’s note: first part to a three-parter i’ve been working on, hope you like it! (also the masterlist needs to be updated so soz about that)

Shopping bags in hand, I returned from the supermarket to my flat when I saw the usually-vacant flat next door to me in use. The front door was slightly ajar, with several moving boxes in front and the sound of someone moving about inside. Huh, so someone moved in. It had been vacant for half a year now – it was nice to finally have a neighbour!

I headed to my own flat, my nosey self taking a peek through the door to see if I could have an idea of who was moving in, but I couldn't see anyone, so I continued to go into my own place and unpack my groceries. After doing so, I decided to head next door and introduce myself, excited to meet someone new in the building.

The boxes from earlier were gone now, probably all inside, and the door was shut like I usually saw it. I sucked up a breath before knocking on, a friendly smile reserved on my lips for whoever would open.

It took a moment, but the door finally opened and revealed a brunette with bright hazel eyes and a mildly confused expression on her face. She seemed strangely familiar, but I couldn't quite pinpoint it.

"Hey! I just wanted to come 'round and introduce myself. I'm your new neighbour." I pointed to my door next to hers and added, "I saw you moving in earlier. I'm Y/N."

She pursed her lips, eyes glancing around subtly before looking me up and down. "Er, hi... I'm Wanda."

I detected a slight accent in her voice with the few words she spoke and became immediately intrigued since everyone in this building was usually the same old American. I didn't ask about it though, as I didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable at our first meeting.

"Nice to meet you, Wanda," I returned with a smile. "I've been living here for a year now, so if you need a hand with anything or need pointers for where to get the best Chinese, I'm your girl." I paused, expecting some sort of reaction, but she didn't move a muscle. Swallowing awkwardly, I added, "Of course, if you just need a hand with unpacking or anything, I'm also happy to help."

She still didn't reply, and in fact, she looked a bit peeved with my presence which made me realise that maybe she just wasn't a talkative person.

I cleared my throat nervously before finishing with, "I'll, er, I'll leave you to it. Sorry to disturb you..."

I chewed on my lower lip as I avoided her piercing gaze and went back to my own place. Not everybody was interested in befriending their neighbours, I got that, so I respected her decision and decided not to bother her in the future. It didn't make me feel any less embarrassed at my intrusiveness though.

I didn't think much of it until the following morning when I was watering my plants out on the fire escape. My fire escape was joined with the neighbour's – the neighbour that usually didn't exist but was now Wanda. The brunette was stood there, drinking some coffee and staring out into the distance. I debated wishing her a good morning, but decided against it as I recalled her being quite introverted. Instead, I awkwardly watered the several plant pots I had, opting to stay quiet so I could be in and out without bugging her once more.

To my surprise, she spoke up and it took me a second to realise she was talking to me.

I held my watering jug upright as I glanced in her direction. She was already staring at me, deep set eyes darkened over the rim of her coffee cup.

"What's that?" I asked, not sure what she’d said.

She cleared her throat, eyes flickering to the plants to distract from her discomfort. "I'm sorry. For being strange yesterday. You were being warm and welcoming and I just..." She paused, releasing a shaky breath. "I've had a bad past few weeks. I didn't mean to take it out on you."

I definitely wasn't expecting that, then realised how many bad days I'd had and taken out on random strangers. I didn't blame her and instead felt bad for her – moving into a new place was supposed to be exciting, so I couldn't imagine what had ruined her past few weeks.

"Well, apology accepted," I said with a small smile. "And I hope things begin to look up for you soon, Wanda."

Her lips twitched into the tiniest of smiles and I noticed how different she looked when she wasn't down in the dumps – she was quite beautiful.

I finished watering my plants before giving her a final smile. I was about to head back inside, but I hung back curiously.

"Er, Wanda, if you don't mind me saying," I started randomly, "you seem familiar. We haven't met before, have we?"

She raised her eyebrows with surprise. "Oh, really? You don't kn–?" She tilted her head to the side, as if expecting me to understand, but I wasn't sure what she wanted. "I... I guess I just have one of those faces."

I studied her curiously, trying to figure it out. But nothing was coming to mind, so I hummed in agreement. "Yeah, I guess so... anyway, enjoy the rest of your day."

She nodded. "You, too."

–

The next time I saw Wanda was probably a week later, just after I collected my mail from the mailroom. I'd received one of those random free trial boxes for a subscription I must have accidentally signed up for – a box of different flavoured trail mixes – and felt bad throwing it out since it was still food at the end of the day. There were nuts in the mixes, which I was allergic to, so I decided to knock on Wanda's door and see if she wanted them.

I hadn't spoken to her since she moved in, except for the occasional good morning on the fire escape if we saw one another, so I hoped she was a little happier compared to when we last spoke properly. Maybe whatever had bothered her was resolved now.

When she opened the door, she seemed surprised that it was me, probably not expecting me to stop by again after last time.

I offered her a smile. "Hey, Wanda. I, er, hope this isn't a bad time."

She shook her head after recovering from her surprise. "No, no, it's not. Is everything okay?" She paused, glancing around, unprepared. "Do you want to come in or...?"

"It's okay, I'm good here," I said when I saw how uncomfortable she seemed. I wasn't just about to invite myself into her flat because she felt she needed to ask. "I just stopped by because, well, do you want this?" I handed her the box, adding, "I got a free sample in the post. Didn't wanna throw it out because it's food, y'know? And I'm allergic to nuts, so my throat will probably puff up and stop me from breathing which isn't good."

I laughed awkwardly, internally cringing at how I spoke utter nonsense because of her lack of her words and my stupid need to fill the silence.

"Unless you're allergic to nuts too," I added as an afterthought, when she glanced at the packaging with no readable expression. "In which case I should probably throw them right away and this whole thing is stupid."

After what felt like an eternity of me not shutting up, she lifted her gaze, eyes softening with a hint of amusement.

"I'm not allergic to nuts," she assured me, before nodding. "Thank you, Y/N."

I relaxed, not even realising how tense my shoulders were. "That's– that's good... so, how are you settling into your new place? All good, I hope?"

Subconsciously, I chewed on the inside of my mouth, wondering why I was so eager to speak to somebody who clearly didn't want to speak to me. She was so quiet, not a woman of many words, yet I couldn't help but feel responsible for welcoming her.

"It's nice," she said, glancing around thoughtfully. "It's quiet. Private."

I nodded in agreement, eyes falling to her doorframe as I said, "Yeah, that's true. Nothing eventful ever happens here."

She hummed, acknowledging my words. I figured the conversation had ran dry and I'd stayed a little too long, so I tried to think of a way to end it without her feeling forced to. Instead, she spoke up next.

"I like your garden."

I furrowed my brows, wondering what she was talking about.

"The flowers on our fire escape," she clarified, small smile tugging at her lips. "They're beautiful."

I stifled a laugh. "I mean, thanks, but it's barely a garden. I've always wanted a proper space to grow stuff, but obviously I can't have that here."

"Well, you've done a great job with what you have," she complimented, and I was sure it was the most she'd spoken to me since moving in. I suddenly didn't feel like she disliked my presence as much as I once thought.

"Thank you," I said gratefully. "Maybe you can start your own alongside mine some day."

"Maybe," she shrugged, "but probably not. Everything I touch–" She paused, life leaving her eyes momentarily, and head looking down to her shoes. "Everything I touch dies."

I pressed my lips together, not expecting the awkward silence to follow. Wanda seemed stuck in thought and I wasn't sure how I'd managed to bring the conversation down so suddenly, especially with the talk of flowers.

"The lovely thing about flowers," I began, earning her attention and hoping to brighten the mood, "is that they only require a little love, some sunlight and some water to keep going. They tend to take care of themselves. Perfect for even the blackest of thumbs."

She let out a breath through her nose, a half chuckle and half acknowledgment of my comment. It was the closest I'd get to a response, so I ran a hand through my hair and took a step back.

"Anyway, I'm glad you're settling in okay," I concluded with a kind smile. "Again, if you need anything, I'm just next door."

"Thank you," she said, returning the smile, and her eyes sparkled as she did. "Have a good afternoon, Y/N."

"You, too, Wanda."

–

The apartment complex I lived in rarely had people entering that I didn't recognise – I'd lived here long enough to know who was who, even the postwoman and maintenance guy. So, when I was leaving for the supermarket and saw a suspicious-looking man walking down the hall, eyes checking every door, I grew curious.

"You okay there, sir?" I called out to him after locking my front door.

He looked my way, readjusting his cap lower on his head, casting a shadow over his face. "Er, yeah..." He hesitated, glancing at his phone before looking to me again. "Actually, maybe you can help me. I'm looking for Wanda Maximoff's apartment. Do you know which one that is?"

I narrowed my eyes at the tall stranger. "I'm sure you can understand my concern when I ask who's asking."

"Oh, no, I completely understand," he said with a nod, and I could swear I had seen him before. "I'm an old friend of hers."

I quirked a brow. Strange man who claimed to a woman-who-lived-alone's friend? That had trouble written all over it. And from one woman to another, I was concerned, even if I didn’t know her very well.

"That's not saying much, sir," I said, biting back the annoyance. "I think that maybe you should–"

I stopped speaking when Wanda's door opened and she popped her head out. She looked to me before spotting the tall stranger, shoulders relaxing.

"I thought I heard you out here," she mumbled to the stranger, before stepping out fully and giving me a reassuring look. "It's okay, Y/N. I know him."

I nodded, glancing at the man, before meeting Wanda's eyes knowingly. "If you're sure..."

She seemed comfortable as she crossed her arms, hugging herself. Smiling reassuringly, she nodded. I relaxed when I saw she knew the suspicious stranger.

"In that case, sorry 'bout the interrogation," I apologised to her friend. "But, you gotta understand with the whole getup you have..."

Her friend chuckled deeply, looking to his shoes with amusement. "Yeah, sorry about that, ma'am. Didn't mean to worry you. It's nice to know Wanda here has thoughtful neighbours though."

"I'm twenty-two, not a ma'am," I said with amusement, before shaking my head. "Anyway, I should get going. Sorry again."

Wanda and her friend nodded as I left them; I was just glad it wasn't some creepy perv stalking our building – that had happened once.

I headed to the supermarket to do some shopping when I saw Wanda again, this time in the milk aisle. Well, she actually saw me, her trolley stopping before mine as she got my attention.

"Oh, Wanda, hey," I greeted her with a smile. "Fancy seeing you here."

She cracked a smile. "Yeah, well, I needed to pick up a few things. Milk, actually," she grabbed some from the fridge to prove her point, "when I saw you."

I nodded, before remembering earlier and feeling a little embarrassed. "Hey, er, sorry about before with your friend. I hope I didn't offend them or anything."

"No need to apologise," she said with a shake of her head. "It's actually very nice of you to have my back like that. I mean, we don't even know each other that well, but you watched out for me. I appreciate it."

"It's the bare minimum of a neighbour," I joked, before settling into genuine smile. "Besides, I'd like to think you'd do the same."

"Of course," she agreed, nodding slightly, before her eyes drifted to the fridge.

I noticed that every conversation we shared felt unfinished, like there was more to be said but neither of us had the guts to say it. Like now, for example, I wanted to check in and see if she was okay, but I felt like I was overstepping since, as she'd put it, we didn’t know each other very well. So, I changed the subject instead.

"So, just milk then?" I asked, nodding to her trolley which had a few bits and bobs in.

She was confused for a moment, zoning back into reality, before it registered in her mind and she answered, "Along with a few other things. And you?"

"Pretty much same," I said with a shrug.

Her eyes lingered in my trolley as she stifled a smile. "That looks like a lot more than a few things, Y/N."

I almost laughed. "Technically, yeah, I guess..." I met her curious gaze, explaining, "I'm having a meal with my sister, her boyfriend and my boyfriend at my place tonight. Cooking a lamb roast." She raised her eyebrows with mild surprise, making me shrug dismissively. "It's not that big of a deal, but there's a lot to prepare and I like things to be perfect, so yeah."

She licked her lips and nodded. "It sounds great. Good luck, I guess. I'm sure it'll turn out wonderful."

"Fingers crossed."

She chuckled, glancing at her shoes, making her dark hair fall in front of her like a curtain. When she looked back up, I couldn't help but smile at how cute she looked.

"I'll leave you to it then," she said, before redirecting her trolley around me. "See you whenever."

"See you." I nodded as she walked past me, shoulder brushing mine and leaving me startled at the weird effect she had on me whenever we spoke.

It didn't last for long though, so I brushed it off and continued to do my shop. The evening couldn't come soon enough, and I soon found myself entertaining my boyfriend, my sister and her boyfriend at my dinner table.

"So I was cooking us a nice meal, as we planned, and she ended up having a go at me because of the mess I made afterwards," my boyfriend, Teddy, was explaining to my sister and her boyfriend, Caleb. "That's why I don't try to be romantic anymore."

I paused from sipping my water, looking over at Teddy with an are you serious? look on my face. Y/S/N and Caleb laughed at Teddy's story, but I wasn't as amused as they were.

"Aw, c'mon, babe, don't be pissed off again," Teddy pleaded teasingly from beside me. "It's a joke. I'm joking."

"But that's not how it happened," I corrected him, before looking to the couple before me. "What Teddy means to say is that I had just cleaned the kitchen and told him that when he cooks, he should try to clean as he goes along so it's easier, but of course, he drops cream everywhere and I had to clean it out of the crevices of the counter. All over again."

Y/S/N and Caleb laughed at my retelling of the story, and Teddy frowned playfully as he looked my way.

"And that's definitely not the reason you're not romantic," I said to him promisingly. "When was the last time you even got me flowers?"

He tried to take lead of the conversation again, straightening up and asking, "When was the last time you got me flowers? Feminism, Y/N. It goes both ways."

He was never usually this obnoxious and it was irking me. Y/S/N and Caleb assumed it was all a joke, so were laughing it off, but I was starting to get frustrated. How could he try and make me look terrible in front of my own family?

"I bought you flowers two weeks ago when you got your promotion, remember?" I answered him with a raised brow.

"Damn, she got you there, Ted," Caleb said like it was a burn.

I subtly clenched my jaw and distracted myself with sipping water. Teddy sighed and tried to wrap an arm around me, but I pulled away slightly.

"Oh, come on, you're not mad, are you? This is all in good faith, babe," he said lightly.

I downed my water and looked between them all. "I think I'm gonna get some air. You guys enjoy your drinks."

They all chorused their disagreements, but I couldn't be bothered dealing with them when they were tipsy and annoying, so I ignored them and headed to the fire escape for a breather.

When I reached the railing, I sighed immediately, feeling like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Until I heard a creaking noise and jumped with surprise before seeing Wanda sitting on her side of the fire escape, drink in hand.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," she said apologetically.

I breathed out, turning around and leaning my back against the railing so I could see her better. "It's okay, it's not you. I just– I forgot you could be there. Used to living without a neighbour. It's taking some getting used to."

I forced a small smile to reassure her, before looking down and taking small breaths of fresh air. Teddy could get under my skin at times, tonight being one of those times, and it was happening more and more lately. Why couldn't he just be less... annoying?

"Is everything okay?" Wanda asked, and I looked up fo see her green-gold eyes glowing in the dark under the moon light.

"Yeah," I said with a nod. I glanced inside, seeing my three guests laughing it up like I was still there. I collapsed on my chair and stared into the bustling city ahead. "Why wouldn't it be?"

Wanda hesitated. "Didn't you have that dinner tonight?"

I leaned in the palm of my hand, mumbling, "Yeah. It's still going on. I just needed some air."

Wanda must have sensed there was more to my words – it didn't take a genius to see that – but to my relief, she didn't push on. All she said was, "Oh, okay," and stayed quiet.

The two of us sat there, in a comfortable silence, staring into the city and revelling in the moon's presence. It was beautiful out, though not a single star could be seen because of the city's pollution. Instead, the moon hung high above our heads and conflicted with the many street and building lights of New York City, thriving even past dusk.

I probably could have stayed there all night, preferring Wanda's silent yet comfortable presence to whatever was waiting for me back inside. But to my dismay, I was called back in and sighed quietly to myself.

"I should head back in," I excused myself, standing up to leave. But I lingered by the door, asking Wanda, "Have you eaten dinner yet?" She seemed puzzled with my question, and I continued speaking anyway. "I made a lot of food and have loads of leftovers I can't finish myself."

She seemed to understand what I was implying and shook her head. "That's okay, Y/N, thank you."

"Wanda, I insist," I said with a small smile. "It'll just go in the bin otherwise."

She was still reluctant. "Honestly, it's fine."

i wasn't taking no for an answer though. "I'll stop by in a bit to drop it off."

"Y/N, I–"

"See you then!" I exclaimed before heading back inside and leaving her no choice to deny it.

"There she is," Y/S/N called out to me when I returned. "You feel better?"

"Perfect," I said sarcastically.

She laughed. "C'mon, we're all sorry. Besides, Caleb and I have to go now, so we want to end on a good note."

Was I being too butt hurt? Probably.

"Right, sorry," I said, looking to them all, before saying, "Do you guys want any food to bring back with you?"

"You guys enjoy it," Caleb said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It was delicious though, Y/N. Thanks for the lovely evening."

"Anytime," I said with a tired smile, before leading them to the door and looking to my sister. "Let me know when you're home, yeah?"

She hummed in agreement, before pulling me into a tight hug. "Love you, Y/N."

"Love you, too," I returned with a playful eye roll.

After bidding them a goodbye, I was left alone with Teddy, who was surprisingly washing the dishes.

"This your way of apologising?" I joked, stopping by the sink.

He glanced at me with apologetic eyes. "Depends. Is it working?"

As I met his brown eyes, I thought back to how frustrating he was acting earlier. He must have been acting out in front of guests for some reason, but he wasn't always like that. Maybe I was overreacting.

"I'll let you know when you're done," I retorted, making him smile with amusement.

As he did that, I worked on filling some containers with leftover dinner for Wanda, being sure to include a generous amount of everything.

"Who's that for?" Teddy asked, noticing what I was doing.

"Wanda, my new neighbour."

"Never heard of her."

I gave him a knowing look. "Hence the word 'new'."'

He returned the stare. "What I mean is, I've never seen her around."

I shrugged, finishing packing the containers and stacking them to carry. "She prefers to keep to herself."

"What, like a weirdo?"

I rolled my eyes. "No, Teddy. She's just private. Introverted, if you will."

"Sounds like a weirdo to me..."

I chose to ignore him as I left the flat and headed to Wanda's. She opened up quicker than usual, probably since she was expecting me this time.

"Bon appétit," I joked, before holding out the takeaway containers. "It's lamb roast with veg, potatoes, some gravy and bread."

"You really didn't have to," she said, though accepted the food. When she glanced down at it, she added, "This is a lot for one person."

I couldn't help the smile on my face. "Enough for second's. You'll have to let me know if you like it. It's my best recipe."

She snickered, eyes meeting mine. "I'm sure it's delicious... do you want to come in?"

Stepping to the side, she looked to me with what I think was a hopeful expression. I felt bad when I smiled sadly, shaking my head.

"I'd love to, Wanda, but I've actually still got my boyfriend over and I can't really, y'know..."

"No worries," she was quick to reassure. "It's– no, it's okay, honestly. I just thought I'd ask."

It was the first time she'd ever asked and meant it, which meant she was finally getting comfortable with me. I would have preferred to go in, but I couldn't just leave Teddy, nor kick him out.

"Maybe we can hang out tomorrow?" I asked hopefully. "If you want, that is. Because I want to. But I don't want to just invite myself over."

She seemed amused as she nodded. "Tomorrow sounds great. Maybe I can make you dinner, as a thank you for this food."

I grew a little excited at spending a bit more time with the quiet, reserved brunette. "I'd like that."

She nodded, lips pursed into a suppressed smile, and glanced at the food in her hand. "Great. Well... have a good evening, Y/N. And thank you again for the food."

"Good evening," I returned, subconsciously memorising the rare smile she gave me, before leaving her to it.

When I returned to my flat, all I could think about was the next night and getting to know Wanda.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #marvel imagine #scarlet witch #wandavision #elizabeth olsen

626 notes · View notes

arvandus · 3 years ago

Text

Icarus (Overhaul x F!Reader)

Ah yes, once again so late on this. This one gave me grief because the characters kept deviating from what I had originally planned. >.< But I worked through it, and here we are.

This is for the BNHarem's “On The Job” Collab for May, which you can find here.

Also, don’t judge my super simple title headings for my fics 😂 I always do these late at night when I should be asleep, so generic background with fancy text is the best I got to offer.

Trigger Warnings: 18+ ONLY! 1 instance of aggression/abuse (hair grabbing/pulling - nonsexual), unprotected sex (fun in fiction, dumb IRL), mutual masturbation, overstimulation, bondage via quirk abuse, degradation...

I think that about covers it. Once again, I’m terrible at TWs so let me know if I missed anything or if anything is inaccurate. 😬 I just kinda write what I want and don’t really think about the labels when I’m doing it.

Pairing: Overhaul x F!Reader

Word Count: 8281

You hadn’t meant to get caught. Really, you weren’t even sure what had possessed you to do it in the first place. Desperation? Horniness? Stupidity?

All of the above?

All you knew was that it was a poor decision brought forth by the gradual culmination of a single annoying, unavoidable fact: you were disgustingly, shamefully, sinfully attracted to Kai Chisaki.

You weren’t exactly sure how or when it started. There was no “aha” moment, no “big bang” of desire. Instead, it was subtle, gradually coating your unsuspecting mind like layers of sediment. A shiver down your spine when he spoke your name. The quickening of your pulse at the briefest of eye contact. And the ever-growing presence of intrusive, curious thoughts.

Like his hands. You always noticed them, the white of his gloves drawing your attention like a beacon whenever he was within eyesight. They were dangerous hands, deadly weapons that you’d seen in action firsthand. They were a thing to be feared and avoided. But some strange part of you couldn’t help but wonder... what did they feel like? You imagined they’d be soft and perfectly manicured, oddly delicate for such a violent man; gentle hands packed with destructive power.

Or his lips. They were always covered by his mask. You never, ever saw him without it. You imagined what your name would look like on them as he spoke, how they’d feel on your skin. Would his lips also be soft? How about his kisses? Would they be cautious and controlled, or rough and hungry?

It didn’t help that he was, in his own way, very attractive. Just like how his dangerous hands were hidden within innocent white gloves, he was the devil hidden behind a pretty face. A sharp, beautiful jawline. Smooth porcelain skin. A crown of auburn red hair, closely cropped, but still long enough to run fingers through.

You bet that part of him was soft too.

The one part of him that wasn’t soft were his eyes. They were beautiful, certainly… as gold as Heaven’s gates and framed in long, perfect lashes. But they lacked the warmth of Heaven. Instead, they spoke of cold arrogance. And if you stared into them long enough, you could see a barely contained disgust lurking beneath their haughty exterior.

The disgust didn’t bother you, not anymore. Everyone disgusted Chisaki, and everyone in the Shie Hassaikai knew it. He even made his closest confidants, some he’d known since childhood, wear masks so he wouldn’t share the same air with them.

He had you wear a mask too, of course. Simple and white, it covered only your lower face, much like his own. That much you were grateful for, considering some of the masks you’d seen others wearing. Your only explanation for the slightly less coverage was that your secretarial position made you a frequent point of contact for those outside of the organization. You handled incoming calls, visitors, and scheduled meetings between Chisaki and his affiliates. No doubt he wanted to ensure you were making a good impression while still operating within his mysophobic requirements.

First impressions were everything to Kai. Even more so since he took the Boss’s place under dubious circumstances. Still, his long-held reputation for extremist thinking and violence preceded him, and not everyone was in support of his unexpected promotion. As a result, many people within the organization parted ways following Chisaki’s rise to power... and soon after they mysteriously went missing, never to be heard from or located again. You had no doubt that it was Chisaki tying up loose ends by sealing loose lips. After all, they say the mouth is the source of disaster. And Chisaki valued confidentiality above all else.

The message he sent was clear: adapt or die. When given such colorful options, the choice on whether to go or stay became a simple one.

So, you adapted. As long as you followed orders, kept your eyes down and your mouth shut, you were safe. After all, it was better to be the right hand of the devil than to be in his path. The only person you really had to fear was Chisaki himself, and you knew him well enough by now to know how to stay on his good side.

And all in all, it really wasn’t all that bad. Sure, you had to orchestrate the occasional clean-up when he disposed of someone who displeased him. But that wasn’t much different than what you’d dealt with when you worked for the Boss, either. Sure, the aftermath was messier and it happened far more often. But violence was violence, and when you worked with the Yakuza long enough, you got used to it. And despite the odd working conditions and ever-present undertone of danger, you remained good at your job. As such, Chisaki brooked no complaint. He tolerated you, and you tolerated him. Interactions were brief, words exchanged were polite and respectful even though they lacked warmth. But it was just a job, right? You didn’t need warmth.

So why did you feel so dissatisfied? Why did you constantly feel that something was missing, a longing you couldn’t entirely describe?

The need only ever waned when Chisaki was in your presence, whether it was to discuss upcoming meetings or simply passing by your desk to get to his office. The dissatisfaction would melt away into a warmth that extended deep into your fingertips whenever the cold-hearted man bothered to look you in the eyes. And when he wasn’t looking at you? It was like being thrown into a winter blizzard, the aching cold returning to pull the corners of your mouth down into a silent frown.

You craved his attention. It was shameful and pathetic and you could only imagine the scorn he’d give you if he knew, but you didn’t care. To be graced with the attention of a man who cared for no one brought a different kind of satisfaction. The rare treats of attention Chisaki did grant you, whether intended or not, scratched an itch that only he could scratch.

As time passed, the intrusive thoughts became more frequent, evolving from odd curiosities to shameless lust. They began to occupy your dreams, forcing you awake with a hot ache between your legs. That was when you really began to realize how in deep you were. It wasn’t just a simple “attraction.” You wanted him. At first you tried to deny and ignore, suppress and excuse. After all, this was Overhaul. Wanting him was like wanting the sun in your hand, and just as dangerous. Apparently though, it made little difference to your hormone-addled brain. It didn’t help that the secretive, forbidden thoughts brought their own special addictive flavor of the taboo.

You began to act different in front of him. Nothing too obvious, of course. After all, you knew Chisaki wasn’t the type to indulge in desperate women. To be honest, you weren’t even sure Chisaki indulged in women at all. All you did know was that whenever women tried to gain his favor through flirtation, Chisaki quickly and harshly shut it down.

So, it was little things... the extra second to release a paper from your grip after he’d grabbed it, the lingering of a glance. You didn’t so much change the style of your attire – skirts and blouses were already the norm for your position – but you changed the colors. A blouse that matched the purple feathery softness of his jacket, golden jewelry that matched his eyes. Little messages waiting in secret to be picked up, yet subtle enough that they could be excused as nothing more than coincidence. It was risky, but the thrill of the game gave you an outlet for your roiling feelings. In the end though, it made no difference. There was nothing about you that seemed important enough to turn Chisaki’s head more than was professionally necessary.

Which is where the state of things were when you found yourself alone in his office one evening. You had thought he was still working at the time. You’d stepped away to shred some incriminating documents and burn the scraps in the kiln outside. It was your last task for the day, so you’d entered Chisaki’s office to announce your departure for the evening. Except when you entered, the space was empty, with all traces of him gone. No papers remained on his desk. His gloves and plague mask were gone. With an annoyed huff you had stood there, bothered that you’d missed him.

Quietly, you walked to his desk, and gently caressed the mahogany wood. It was immaculate of course, free of dirt and fingerprints. You knew it would be because he cleaned his space every evening before he left, and you cleaned it every morning before he arrived.

You sighed as you retrieved the paper towels and cleaning solution. No harm in giving it a second scrub to save yourself some time tomorrow morning. It wasn’t like anyone would be foolish enough to enter this space without Chisaki present anyway.

You should have just left it at that. But as you walked around his desk to wipe the surface with the damp towel, your bare legs just below your skirt bumped his chair. Soft leather, still warm from where he had sat, greeted your exposed skin.

That should have been your first clue.

But your mental alarms never sounded. Instead, you figured you had just missed him.

You should have just left, but you didn’t. The warmth on the chair was enticing you. He was gone, right? Left for the evening. What harm could it do to indulge just a little bit? With your heart pounding with excitement, you carefully sat down in the warm leather. Immediately the scent of Chisaki’s body wash and clean clothes cradled you.

That should have been your second clue.

But you were already too wrapped up in your enjoyment. You relished in the sensations, leaning back as you closed your eyes. It was the closest you’d ever felt to him, as if his very presence was there with you. Your desire purred deep in your gut at receiving its first nibble of satisfaction. If you closed your eyes, you could pretend he was there, holding you.

Your kept your eyes closed as your imagination began to take root like weeds in your mind, making your skin feel hot. Your fingers grazed the inside of your thigh, dipping beneath your skirt while your heart pounded. What if those were his fingers? The vision combined with the sensations of touch and smell were delicious, and you wanted more. You dragged the pads of your fingertips up even higher, your arm starting to push your skirt up with it. Your legs parted easily, as you let out a shaky breath.

You shouldn’t be doing this. Not here of all places. But there was something so sinfully satisfying about it, the danger only heightening the sensations. After all, the reward was only as great as the risk it took to earn it. And this was the highest risk you could take, short of literally throwing yourself at him. Besides, it wasn’t like your fantasies were ever going to come true. Maybe satisfying yourself - right here, right now – would be enough to finally give you the peace of mind you needed.

And dear God, did you need it. You could already feel the heat growing in your loins, the moisture dampening your panties. Your fingers finally brushed against the warm cotton fabric covering your sex and you let out a soft gasp.

What Chisaki didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. He was gone, right? And you were going to clean up any traces of your little visit before you left. He’d be none the wiser.

Your fingers slipped beneath your underwear to meet the hot, slick flesh of your folds, your clit already plump and ready with arousal. You knew it wouldn’t take you long to cum, but you wanted to enjoy this, to savor it as the only opportunity you’d get. You certainly weren’t going to do this again.

So, you teased yourself, fingertips softly dragging slow circles around your entrance before dipping in. A shaky moan left your lips, the quickening of your breaths matching the racing of your heart. In and out you dragged your fingers, relishing in your sleek, sensitive walls, occasionally breaking your rhythm to spread your juices over your swollen labia. You revisited your clit and stifled your moan with a bite of your lip as you began to slowly massage it with practiced skill. It felt so fucking good. The scent of yourself mingled with the scent of Chisaki, and you spread your legs wider, leaning back farther into the seat. You could feel the surge beginning to swell, and you knew it would be soon. Vivid fantasies danced on the inside of your eyelids, and you were fully enthralled, fingers skimming fast circles over your swollen bud as your other hand began to massage your breast through your blouse.

“Fuuuuuckk....Kai....” You moaned.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

The familiar voice made you jump so hard, you nearly fell out of the chair as your eyes flew wide open.

There was Kai Chisaki, staring down at you from across the desk – his desk. And there were you, sitting in his chair, spread eagle.

Your breath was knocked out of you and you felt light-headed with panic. You caught sight of the shoji screen behind him, wide open to the evening air.

FUCK. Of course. You forgot to check outside. He must have stepped out for some fresh air before returning to his office.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. You hadn’t heard him enter. How long had he been standing there??

“I asked you a question.” The man seethed through his plague mask. His gloved hands were clenched into angry fists, and his eyes... eyes that you’d always craved to see you... well, they saw you now, and you were terrified.

Immediately, you closed your legs and stood up from his chair. Your mouth babbled soundlessly before your voice finally came, tight and small.

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.”

“I didn’t ask for an apology.” He hissed.

“I know, I’m sorry.” You blubbered.

“Come. Here.” Chisaki demanded.

You obeyed, struggling to adjust your skirt as you approached him from around his desk.

“I didn’t tell you to touch your clothes.” His tone was quiet and constrained yet sharp as a razor’s edge, each word uttered with meticulous precision.

You stared at him in shock as you slowly removed your hands from your rumpled clothing. His eyes raked over you, top to bottom, and left you feeling... exposed.

“Look at you...” he grumbled. “Disgusting.”

His mask was unnerving, blocking the lower half of his face and keeping you from being able to fully read his facial expression. His gold eyes were threatening – predatory like a wolf.

He was going to kill you. You knew it was coming. He’d killed others for far less. But you weren’t ready for it. You didn’t want to die.

You dropped to your knees and bowed low in front of him, shrinking yourself to fit beneath his harsh glare. “Please, Mr. Chisaki-“

“Overhaul.”

“Overhaul!” you corrected, as you bowed your head lower to the ground. “Please forgive me. I meant no disrespect.”

“No disrespect?” he sneered. “You debase yourself in my seat, my place of business, and claim no disrespect??”

His left hand reached forward at lightning speed and grabbed you by your hair, forcing your head back until you were looking him straight up at him. You winced against his harsh hold on you, yet clenched your teeth in an effort to keep your silence. He glared down at you as his next words came out through what you could clearly hear as clenched teeth.

“Clean it up.”

With that, he shoved you away from him. On shaking, clumsy legs you pushed yourself to your feet and made your way back to his desk, your skin hot with shame and your ears ringing.

You did as he commanded, grabbing the cleaning solution and spraying his seat before carefully, meticulously, wiping every inch of the rich leather. Minutes passed in silence as you made sure that no spot went unnoticed, even ensuring that the table was once again cleaned as well. By the time you had finished, Kai’s temper seemed to have dwindled to a simmering flame. His hands were no longer clenched in fists at his sides. Instead, they were tucked deep into his pockets as he supervised you. It did little to comfort you though... you knew that Chisaki’s reflexes were faster than you could dodge. He’d catch you before you even reached the door.

Not that you’d try to. You knew better.

When the chair was finally pristine, you disposed of the last of the soiled paper towels in the wastebin and returned the cleaning solution to its home. The task was done, but you didn’t stop. You picked up the trash can with the intent of disposing of its contents; you knew Chisaki wouldn’t want it sitting in his office.

It was all to buy you time. Time to figure out what to say or what do to convince Chisaki to spare your life. But you didn’t even make it to the door before Chisaki’s voice halted your retreat.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I... I was just...” you stammered.

“I didn’t give you permission to leave.”

You swallowed and set down the trashcan. He approached you slowly, until he was a mere few inches from you. He was so close that you could smell his cleanliness and see the pupils of his eyes dilate as he stared at you. Slowly, he grabbed the mask that was covering your mouth and nose and removed it from your head. You stopped breathing.

There was something... electric in the air. You could feel it on your skin, making your hairs stand on end and your flesh tighten with goosebumps. His eyes peered at you intently, taking in every subtlety of your face. Your lips, your eyes, your skin... and beneath the weight of his stare, you could feel the fear start to transform, replaced by something else entirely. Something familiar that’d been plaguing you for months, lighting your veins with fire and threatening to incinerate you if it wasn’t released. After all, part of his allure was the danger. And he hadn’t killed you yet, which meant... something.

Chisaki’s gaze began to wander beyond just your face, taking in your still rumpled clothes. The top couple buttons of your blouse were undone, exposing the skin of your neck and the edges of your bra. Your skirt was still askew, and although he couldn’t see it, you became acutely aware of your still-damp underwear trapped between your folds from when you had hastily closed your legs earlier. You stared back at him, waiting for him to do something, say something.

And that’s when you noticed it... a faint flush across his pale cheeks, peaking out from beneath his mask. His chest was rising and falling with each breath, and it was as if he were contemplating something, silently weighing a decision in his closed-off mind.

A strange bubbling sensation began to build within your chest, foreign and oddly out of place.

Hope.

Finally, Chisaki spoke, his voice unusually calm considering the trouble you were in. “Follow me.”

Not one to disobey him, you did as he requested as he made his way over to his desk and sat down in his chair. Then, with an open hand, he gestured at his desk.

“Sit.”

Confusion.

“W-What??” you stuttered.

“I said sit.” He replied.

You did as Chisaki commanded, fitting yourself between his legs and his desk before hopping up slightly onto the surface you’d just cleaned. You were right in front of him now, your hands in your lap and your ankles crossed as you realized just how perfect this arrangement was for him to see directly up your skirt. You worried your lip between your teeth as you watched him assess you. His elbow was resting on the armrest of his chair, his fingers supporting his face along the jawline as he stared at you with his head cocked at an angle. If it were any other situation, you’d say he looked almost bored... but the glint in his eyes spoke of something else entirely.

“Continue.” He stated.

“What? What do you mean?” you asked.

His eyes stared at you knowingly. “You didn’t get to cum, did you?” You shook your head, stunned at his words. “Continue.” He repeated.

“Right here?”

“Where else? It was good enough for you earlier.” His tone dropped slightly as his eyes narrowed. “Continue.”

Your heart pounded in your ears as you uncrossed your ankles, and with shaky hands began to trace your fingers up your thighs just as you had done before. Except this time, the experience was entirely different. Instead of closing your eyes like before, you kept them open to stare at your observer, watching for his reaction. So many times you’d fantasized about this... about his eyes being on you and only you... and you weren’t going to miss a moment of it.

With your eyes locked on each other, you inched your way up to the space between your thighs, your legs parting to grant you access. Chisaki didn’t look down. Not right away, at least. Instead, he continued to watch your face, his body still and silent. With the heat of his gaze on you, you finally reached your center where your warmth greeted you. It was still slick from earlier, your fingers sliding easily along your labia as you began to tease yourself for the second time that evening. You let out slow, shaky breaths as your fingers rubbed slow, lazy circles over your glossy lips.

Chisaki still didn’t break his gaze from your eyes, and a part of you wanted him to. You wanted him to acknowledge what you were offering him and know that he liked it. A small, devious smirk found itself on your lips as you pulled your fingers away from your pussy to show him the evidence of your arousal stretched across your fingers. It caught his attention just briefly, eyes flicking to your display, before he watched you lick the glistening strands from your fingertips, the soft sounds of your sucking filling the empty, quiet room.

Chisaki’s eyes narrowed, and the smirk on your face widened. Soon your fingers were back between your legs, massaging your clit again as your skin began to feel flush with heat. Round and round the pads of your fingers went, with painstaking slowness that you drew out just for him. You wanted to show him how good his presence made you feel. You wanted him to see how badly you wanted him. Your lips became more swollen, your clit more sensitive. Already you could start to feel the tension build. It was almost too easy, your body ready to surrender at the drop of a hat. But you weren’t going to let it happen, not yet at least. You wanted to draw this out, to savor it in case it never happened again.

With half-lidded eyes you stared at him as you parted you folds for him, fully exposing yourself. For the first time, his eyes drifted from your face to stare directly at your desire for him – your tight hole open and waiting, every inch of your swollen cunt drenched in glistening arousal. Chisaki was captivated and you felt your blood surge. You needed more. With your fingers still spreading yourself open, you dipped your middle digit into your tight heat. Pleasure bloomed within you and a soft groan vibrated from the back of your throat. With each draw of your fingers, your breaths quickened, your back arching as the tension began to build.

You struggled to keep your eyes open, to watch Chisaki as you brought yourself closer to orgasm, but it became increasingly difficult. You were single-focused now, chasing your much-needed release with each plunge of your finger into your soft depths. Your body accommodated it welcomingly, and so you added a second, once again relishing in the renewed stretch that caressed your inner walls. The faster you pumped your fingers, the better it felt until your nerves were singing that familiar hum. You flowed seamlessly into the final phase, your wet fingers leaving your entrance in favor of rubbing hard, fast circles over your clit. The finish line was in sight now as your body sprinted with tense, aching muscles and breathy moans.

You came with a gasp, back arching and thighs twitching as you rode out your orgasm. As you neared the end of it, you dipped your fingers in one last time as your walls gave one last final spasm of pleasure. Gradually the wave of your euphoria calmed, returning to the gentle, lapping waters of desire that still moved within you to the rhythm of your heartbeat.

You opened your eyes to see Chisaki still staring at you silently, his eyes once again locked onto yours. The flush across his cheeks was very much apparent now, yet his posture remained unmoved. Still, out of curiosity, you dared a quick glance down to his lap to see his hand strategically placed over the bulge in his pants. Was he trying to hide it? Because he was failing. Or was he stroking himself through his clothes when you weren’t looking?

“Again.” He ordered.

Your eyes bulged. “Again?”

He didn’t bother to answer, instead waiting silently. You were a bird trapped in the golden cage of his eyes as your mind struggled to recover enough from the hazy aftereffects of your orgasm to think straight. He wanted you to do it again?

At first you were hesitant. You knew your body was still sensitive from what had just transpired. But then again… your eyes stared at Chisaki’s crotch again as he waited for you. No doubt he saw you staring, yet he did nothing, said nothing. It almost felt like an invitation… or a dare. Do it again and see what happens.

Fuck. You’d already gotten under his skin... might as well see how deep you could go.

Between your orgasm only moments before and the juices still coating your pussy, the sensations of your touch at first felt almost... numb. Except for your clit. That part was still sensitive, making your muscles twitch and your breath hitch in your throat as you moved your fingers over it experimentally. You kept your touch gentle at first, careful to give your body time to respond as you reawakened the lust that still lurked in your core. With dark eyes you began to stroke yourself for him again, pulling soft pleasurable moans from your gently parted lips. It was definitely more intense this time, and you could already tell that this next orgasm would surpass the one before it. Still, you drew it out as you watched Chisaki. Or, more specifically, watched his free hand.

It didn’t take long... you watched his fingers grip around his hard-on through his pants, his hand slowly moving up and down his restricted length. You bit your lip at the sight and immediately felt a generous wave of hot arousal bloom between your legs, your nipples hardening achingly. It wasn’t enough to capsize you into ecstasy, but it certainly pulled a needy whimper from your lips.

You dipped your fingers into yourself, feeling your walls flutter as you imagined what it would feel like to have Chisaki inside of you. With each curl of your fingers the heat grew, like the sun reaching its zenith. You wanted it. You wanted to cum so badly. But you wanted to see him even more. So, you neglected your puffy clit in favor of unbuttoning your blouse just enough to grant you access to your sensitive breasts. You pushed aside the cup of your bra to free the plump flesh, the bud at its center tightly puckered. With deft fingers you massaged the soft skin before rolling the nipple slowly between your fingers, pulling more soft gasps and gentle hums from your lips. The more you groaned and teased yourself, the more Chisaki stroked himself as he watched you, his eyes glowing with hunger.

It wasn’t until you began to lose yourself, your eyes beginning to drift closed as you moaned and whined to the ebb and flow of your pleasure, that your patience was finally rewarded.

You could hear it over the sounds of your lewdity – the ‘click click click’ of a zipper being pulled down. You opened your eyes, not even attempting to hide your eagerness, as Chisaki freed his cock from his pants.

It was beautiful just like the rest of him; long with a slight curve, its tip red and shining with precum. Veins stood out in relief, trailing his length like vines, thick and beautiful. You swallowed at the sight of it, desperately wanting to know what it would feel like to have that in you.

You hadn’t realized your own movements had frozen until Chisaki’s smooth voice cut through your thoughts.

“I didn’t tell you to stop.” He said, as cool and professional as ever as if he didn’t currently sit before you with his dick in his hand.

He was gloating, you knew it... your stunned silence at the sight of his cock stroked his ego just as much as you touching yourself for him did. And you knew that, above all else, Chisaki loved to have his ego stroked.

“Y-yes Mr. Chisaki...” you whispered, before your fingers began moving again.

You continued to stroke and play, penetrate and rub as you watched him take his long cock in his hand and begin long, steady strokes. Even now, he still kept his gloves on, and somehow that made his every move even hotter. He was no longer propping his face up with his other hand. Now, he was sitting up straight, eyes on your needy cunt as you put on your show for him. You could see it, the tension in his temple that came and went, hear the ragged, quick draws of his breaths through his mask. Your own arousal grew in response, egged on by him searching for his own sweet relief at the lewd sight of you. It blossomed like a watered seed as you drank in the man in front of you – his hand pumping, precum dripping.

It was the push your sensitive body needed. You came surprisingly fast, your orgasm crashing over your body with greater intensity than the first. Moans and gasps ripped from your throat as your body spasmed, and you made no effort to quell your cries, too consumed by your own pleasure. With eyes squeezed shut, your hips rocked as you grinded yourself against your hand, your entire body singing in unbridled bliss.

You were given no respite. As soon as the pleasure eased just enough for your hips to still, Chisaki spoke.

“Again.”

Your eyes, still closed, flew open to look at him with incredulity. You weren’t even recovered yet, your cunt still twitching with the aftershocks of pleasure. You knew that touching yourself without some sort of break was going to lead you down a jagged, torturous road of overstimulation. It made your legs start to close up instinctually in denial.

Your mouth moved silently before you pushed the words out. “B-But... I can’t....”

Chisaki’s eyes narrowed, his brows lowering... and along the edge of his mask, you could see his cheeks lift slightly. He was smirking at you. Cruelly.

“You can, and you will.” He said. A wave of his fingers told you to reopen your legs for him, and you did, slowly, as if you were a puppet on strings. “Again.” He repeated.

Chisaki took a moment to remove the glove from his stroking hand before giving his cock a couple more languid strokes. You stared at the exposed skin in awe. It was everything you imagined it’d be... pale, smooth, nails clean and perfectly trimmed. Between his hard cock and his ungloved hand, you stared in shameless longing as an excited chill coursed down your spine. Maybe… maybe if you were good…

You swallowed the dryness in your throat and returned your fingers to your core, flinching as you brushed against your sore, overstimulated clit. Chisaki returned to pleasuring himself as you performed for him, his hand pumping steadily. Watching him masturbate to you was delicious. He didn’t rush, instead opting to taking his time, his hand moving smoothly from base to tip, occasionally pausing to run his precum over the head, the shine glinting in the light. You subconsciously licked your lips, wondering what it would taste like. Would you lick it from his tip? Or his finger? Maybe both?

You matched your pace with his, letting his own strokes guide your hand. The synchrony made your pussy ache more than ever, even as your body screamed for freedom – a break from the constant wave of stimulation that you were subjecting yourself to. It made you feel closer to him, more connected - as if he were a part of your pleasure without actually touching you.

But dear God, you desperately you wanted him to touch you.

He continued his strokes, slow and easy. Whether it was for him or for you, you weren’t sure... you weren’t even sure if he was aware that you were pacing yourself with him. His speed gradually quickened, the muscles of his forearms tensed and twitching as he pumped his hard cock with growing fervor. It was the hottest thing you’d ever seen, his eyes starting to roll back in his head as he began to lose himself to the pleasure, legs twitching slightly as he came close... Your heart pounded with excited anticipation as you dipped your fingers into your core, feeling your walls flutter with need. It was happening... he was going to cum...

But he never did. Instead, his pace began to slow as his eyes refocused on you. That was when you realized….

Chisaki wasn’t trying to cum yet… he was edging himself.

Maybe he was waiting for you. Or maybe he had his own agenda. But either way, it was clear to you that he was delaying his orgasm.

The hypocrite.

Still, you wanted to please him. You wanted to give him want he wanted, because then maybe he could give you what you really wanted. But no matter how hard you tried, no matter how fucking hot the entire situation was, your own orgasm evaded you.

It was more than just the repeated orgasms and overstimulation. The real issue was that your fingers no longer satisfied. Not after seeing what he had to offer, and certainly not after seeing how horny you made him. You wanted him to touch you, to put his hands on you, to feel his cock in you... A frustrated whine escaped your lips as you felt your resolve break.

“Please, Mr. Chisaki...” you begged. Chisaki’s eyes left your open pussy to lock with yours. Their golden depths burned holes into you, and you licked your lips under the heat of his stare. “Please touch me...”

Chisaki froze mid-stroke. “Touch you?” He said it as if the idea repulsed him, yet his eyes betrayed him as he looked back down between your open legs.

“Please,” You begged. “Don’t you want to?”

His brow was deeply furrowed, and you knew he was having his internal debate, just as he’d had before. After all, what you were asking was no small order. You knew how he felt about touch. No doubt he would have already been balls deep in you had it not been an issue for him.

But that was why you begged. And pleaded. And groveled. Anything to make him set aside his golden rule, even if just for one night.

“Please...” you whined one last time. “I’ll do anything. I need you, Kai...”

Something about you using his given name did something. His eyes widened slightly, his flush reaching down to his exposed neck. Then his eyes narrowed, as he stood from his seat. You watched with a mix of excitement and trepidation as he carefully removed his jacket and loosened his white tie. He towered over you, his stare pinning you somewhere between his contempt and his hunger as he undid the cuffs of his black shirt and rolled up his sleeves to the elbows. It made your pussy throb and your heart pound as you stared back at him, completely vulnerable. He stepped forward slightly, filling the space between your legs with his presence. Even just the graze of his pants against the inside of your knee was enough to set off fireworks on your skin, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. His cock was still out and hard, mere inches from your tight, needy cunt, and it took every ounce of willpower not to scoot down and close the gap between you.

You waited.

“Touch you...” he muttered through his mask, his voice low.

Chisaki’s eyes raked over you, taking in every inch of you. Your trembling, parted lips and large pupils; your exposed breast with its perky, hard nipple; your swollen and glossy cunt framed in ruined underwear that was carelessly shoved aside; the sweat from your thighs coating his desk.

“So fucking filthy.” He breathed. The profanity sounded strange on his lips, almost more like a prayer than an insult.

He stared at one of your thighs as he slowly placed a warm, gloved hand on it. You reacted immediately, gasping at his touch, and his eyes darted to yours.

“...And needy.” He added.

From your peripheral you could see his other hand grip his cock and begin to pump it. You tried to watch... you wanted to watch. But the heat of his hand on your thigh made nearly everything else fade away until it was all you cared about. Your breaths began to come in hot pants as your body trembled beneath him.

“I didn’t realize that you were so desperate for me.” He said calmly as he continued to stroke himself. His gloved hand squeezed your soft flesh until you were moaning from the mixture of pleasure and pain. “Pathetic.”

You were pathetic. But you didn’t care. You’d say anything, do anything, just to have him keep touching you. And if he wanted you to beg? To cry? To humiliate yourself to earn his cock? You’d do that too.

His hand slowly eased its grip as it began to move up, up, up until his thumb nestled in the crook of your thigh, just shy of your sensitive, swollen folds. Your hand immediately made way for his as you laid down completely onto his desk, your world spinning. A warmth fell over you like a blanket, every fiber of your being pulsing at a low hum; you were a glass vibrating at a frequency just shy of shattering.

Chisaki’s voice floated through your haze like a faraway song carried on the wind. “You were so eager at first. So willing to shame yourself – shame me – to get what you wanted.” He scoffed. “Now you can’t even do as I say.”

You could feel his thigh twitch against yours as he began to pump himself faster. His cock was so close to your pussy that it was torturous. It made you want to cry. You could feel the warmth of fresh juices begin to flow from you, coating your entrance in invitation, as you prayed to all the gods above and below for him to enter you without mercy.

But it never came. And his hand never ventured further. Slowly, your thoughts trickled back ever so slightly, and you realized he was waiting for you to speak. Slowly, around a heavy tongue, you made clumsy words. “I... I’m sorry...I’m trying... is hard...”

Chisaki tsked. “You’re afraid. Afraid of pushing past your limits. So now I’m going to help you.”

His gloved thumb crossed the threshold to your swollen bud, and your world exploded into color as a sharp zing of pleasure erupted from between your legs. You cried out, your body spasming, hips writhing to escape his touch. It was too much...

“Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded.

Then he did something you didn’t expect – his bare hand released his cock and slammed down onto the desk. The surface rippled beneath you, transforming until smooth arches of dark mahogany wrapped themselves over your arms, effectively pinning you down.

Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, your breaths coming out in quick, panicked gasps.

“Kai!” you protested.

He bent over you and grabbed your jaw in his gloved hand, his plague doctor mask inches from your face. “You wanted me to touch you,” he whispered. “Now you’re going to get what you asked for.”

The look in his eyes wasn’t as controlled as before. Sure, the disgust and hunger were still there. But there were more emotions now, peaking through the cracks of his practiced façade. Anger, contempt, fear, desire, longing... and something else; something wild and unhinged.

Something within him was on the verge of breaking, of being set free, and you were the one responsible.

He straightened himself up and returned his gloved hand to your sopping core, his cock once again in his bare hand. His thumb found its home again, nestled firmly against your engorged clit.

He wasn’t gentle, he wasn’t slow. Instead, his thumb ran swift, relentless circles, the digit igniting every frayed nerve. Each swipe had you crying out as wave after wave of sharp, jagged pleasure assaulted you, without so much as a second of recovery in between. And as Chisaki raced you towards that inevitable cliff, his own hand pumped himself hard and fast. His strokes began to become erratic, his composure slowly slipping as you began to unravel before him, your whines and cries luring him to follow you to the point of no return. You could feel his own legs began to spasm against your inner thighs, his hips beginning to jut forward with each drag of his palm along his hard shaft. The gap between your two bodies began to close, until you could feel the tip of him brush against your core. In that instant, you came undone beneath him with his name spilling from your drooling lips.

The temptation was too much. He entered you as you came, his cock burying itself within your clenching walls with a single thrust. Your legs wrapped around him instantly as your body exploded into a mess of tears, shrieks, and trembles. With one hand on your hip and one working your clit, he fucked you through your orgasm as you cried and panted, his own grunts joining your one-person symphony as you felt every fiber of your being shatter with white hot pleasure. It was all-consuming, disorienting. You weren’t even sure you were a person anymore. You could feel nothing else, see nothing else except the man inside of you, hovering over you, filling your existence.

It didn’t stop. Even after you were a blubbering mess, tears streaming down your cheeks, your thighs and cunt sore, Chisaki kept going, his cock reaching new depths as it dragged against your spasming, sensitive walls. His breaths were heavy, each pant labored until he ripped his mask off his face. It was like a switch had been flipped, changing Chisaki from a man in control to nearly animalistic. Teeth bared, sweat beading across his forehead, golden eyes absolutely feral. His thrusts took you past your orgasm, unrelenting, and you cried and babbled for him to stop, it was too much, your body couldn’t take anymore. But even as your string of incoherent words begged for the end, your body spoke of a different kind of freedom, your legs tightening around Chisaki’s waist in an effort to pull him impossibly deeper into you.

Chisaki snarled, releasing his hand from your cunt as he continued to fuck you, and removed his remaining glove with his teeth. Suddenly, the white fabric was being shoved into your mouth, gagging your broken words behind its white cotton that smelled and tasted of you.

“Shut up.” He growled.

You could see the hives breaking out across his damp, flushed skin now at the contact, but it no longer seemed to matter to him. And it didn’t matter to you either. You were wrapped up delirium, your eyes glossing over and rolling into your head with each drive of Chisaki’s hips. Your hips couldn’t even keep up with his thrusts anymore; his movements were too rough, too fast. All you could do was lay there and receive him as he pounded you without restraint. That familiar knot was forming again, a dark beast built from the broken pieces of the last. It was a terrifying thing, a formidable presence that you felt building within yourself that would surely decimate you.

“This is what you really wanted, isn’t it?” Chisaki grunted through clenched teeth. “You wanted me to fuck you senseless, to ruin this tight pussy of yours like the greedy, selfish bitch you are.”

His words washed over you and you gave the faintest of nods, your mouth still gagged.

“So, you’re going to take what I give you. You’re going to cum when I say, as often as I say.” His cock hit deep as his thumb gave a final press against your clit. “Now.”

You screamed around the cotton in your mouth, back arching and arms straining against the wood trapping you as the tension finally erupted. It tore through your veins, making your fluids gush and your pussy clench like a vice around Chisaki’s pumping cock. Not a moment later, you heard him groan followed by the hot sensation of his cum coating your walls. It only enhanced the waves of pleasure still wrecking you and your pussy milked him greedily as he emptied himself in you.

The comedown felt like it would never arrive. Your nerves still sang too loudly, the aches echoed too deep. But finally, Chisaki’s hips stuttered to a stop and your own body lay limp beneath him. It felt like you were submerged under water, every sense dulled or muted, as you stared hazily at the ceiling. Chisaki was still in you, his dick twitching sensitively each time your body gave a weak aftershock. You had thought he would pull out, leave you there like the ruined mess you were to go clean himself up. Now doubt he’d return to his senses any moment and be repulsed by what transpired.

But he never did. Instead, he braced himself over you, his heavy, hot breaths coating your exposed skin as he settled through his own comedown while you warmed his cock. You felt the desk ripple beneath you and suddenly your arms were freed from their restraints, the wooden surface back to its original state. A moment later, he filled your view as he leaned over you, and you had a brief moment of panic, wondering if you were next. Was he going to overhaul you now? After all, he got what he wanted...

But he never did that either. Instead, he removed the glove from your mouth as his eyes traced over your face, marking every feature, every nuance. Your parted, chapped lips... your glossy, sweat-stained skin... the exhaustion in your eyes... His thumb came up to wipe away at the tears drying along your cheekbones before running the smooth pad over your lower lip.

Then he did something you didn’t anticipate, something that surprised you above all else. He bent down and captured your mouth with his, his wet tongue gliding into your stunned, open mouth. It was strangely slow, uncharacteristically tender, and entirely unexpected. The fog you’d been swimming in a moment before lifted slightly, and you began to kiss him back, your arm wrapping up around his shoulders before tangling your fingers into his damp, auburn locks at the base of his neck.

Whatever it was, it was short-lived. He brought a hand up to grasp the hand you had around his neck, his fingers twining with yours as he placed your hand back down on the desk, pinning you within his hold. He pulled away from the kiss and stared down at you with a dark smirk tugging the corners of his wet lips. And his eyes... his eyes burned gold like the sun. Not a beautiful, gentle gold that kissed open delicate flowers and melted winter snow. No, this was a force of unrelenting destruction, the kind that burned deserts, scorched forests... and melted wax wings.

You were Icarus, fueled by foolishness and arrogance. You’d flown too close, fueled by a false sense of confidence that you could handle whatever it was that lurked within him, that your lust was enough to match his. But you were quickly learning you couldn’t. His fire burned too hot, his hunger too deep. He was going to devour you until there was nothing left. And really, what did you expect from a man who denied himself every human urge in his quest for perfection?

The sun could never be controlled.

And Pandora’s box can never be closed.

Slowly, he lowered his face next to yours until you could feel his lips brush against the shell of your ear.

“Again.”

#overhaul x reader #Kai Chisaki x reader #overhaul smut #mha smut #bnha smut #tw:bondage #tw:masturbation #tw:degradation #tw:overstimulation #tw:aggression #bnharem collab

376 notes · View notes

someonestolemyshoes · 3 years ago

Text

The Keeper’s Introduction

Here is my fic for @levihan-drabbles Fluff Friday!

Prompt: "I know I just broke into your apartment in the middle of the night but there are some bad people after my special power over alternate universes and I've decided to put all my faith on you to save everything."

They looked oddly at home, expertly navigating his kitchen. As though they had been there before. They grabbed the honeypot from another cupboard, and found a spoon in one of the drawers.

"Oi," Levi said. "How'd you know where I keep all my shit?"

The stranger waved their hand flippantly, "Oh, I'm well acquainted with your layout. It never really changes, wherever you are."

Levi had just settled in for the night when a loud echoing crack sounded in the street below.

It was well past midnight, far too late for such a racket. The sudden violence of it was almost enough to make him spill his tea. He waited with his breath held, his heart shamefully hammering in his chest. Levi prided himself on being the type who doesn't scare so easily—but one can't be blamed for being alarmed by an unexpected noise in the dead of night, can they?

The world remained mercifully still and quiet. Levi approached the open window slowly (carefully, not frightfully; there is no indignity in being cautious) and peered out into the night. The sky outside was almost full dark, saved from the pressing black by only a smattering of stars and the moon, a papery sliver of a thing hooked high over the distant rooftops. The window, open only an inch, gave entry to a gentle breeze, still balmy despite the lateness of the hour. The town was drowsy, dozing; only the occasional candle flickered in the darkness, and no sound, prior to or following the thunderous clap, could be heard.

The street, three stories below, was empty. Levi scanned the road, but found nothing unusual. The strangest thing, perhaps, was that his face was the only one peering out. None of his neighbours had deemed the explosion worth investigating.

It was, for all the world, a night as perfectly normal as any other. Levi had seen no reason to expect anything out of the ordinary might occur.

He blew out a breath. Maybe he had imagined it. He had been quite engrossed in his novel, and it was well past time for him to be sleeping. It isn't unreasonable to assume that the sound of a cat, perhaps, rattling the bins in the alley had startled his tired, occupied mind. Resolving to finish his chapter and go straight to bed, Levi gave the street one last cursory glance, and turned away from the window.

He had just settled back into his chair and picked up his tea cup and his book, when the doorbell rang.

The chime in itself was yet another oddity, for Levi received visitors only very rarely, and never at an hour so late as this.

He set down his drink and lowered the book to his lap with a frown. Better, he thought, not to answer straight away. Then they might leave without causing him any trouble—and if they rang a second time, and even a third, Levi would suppose it might be something urgent and might finally be pressed to receive his unwanted guest.

Much to his pleasure, the bell did not sound a second time. Levi waited, poised to stand, but minutes passed by with no sound at all, and eventually, mildly disgruntled now by the persistent interruptions, he settled back and tried, once again, to read.

He turned the page. Picked up his now lukewarm tea, and took a sip. Sunk down more comfortably into the plush armchair. He felt himself begin to settle. The peculiarities of the night drifted from his thoughts as he read, mind too engaged with the story in his hands to think too deeply over the strange events that had occurred.

And then, without any warning at all, a godawful shriek rent the air as Levi's window was wrenched open from the outside, the wood frame protesting with a violent screech. Levi jerked in his seat, book falling from his hands and his tea cup shattering as it struck the stone floor.

There was a person, making no efforts at all to be quiet, unashamedly clambering in through his window. Levi watched, too shocked to move, while they pulled themself over the sill and crumpled in a heap to the floor.

Levi could do nothing but stare as the intruder heaved themself up. They unfurled long limbs, straightening to their full height, and turned quickly to poke their head out of the open window. They looked left, then right, down, and most peculiarly, up, before pulling themself back inside and slamming the window closed. They drew the curtains shut, and turned to look into the room, casting their eyes about the place as though inspecting it.

They walked with a relaxed gate, seemingly unbothered by their rude intrusion. Levi couldn't be sure if they had noticed his presence, for they made no show of knowing he was even there, and Levi was still too stunned to announce it. He watched the stranger rotate in a slow circle, looking everywhere from the ceiling down to the floor. Satisfied, they slapped their hands to their hips and nodded once, and then their gaze fell on Levi, still sitting stiff as a board in his chair. The light from Levi's lamp cast half their face in shadow, glinting off the lenses of their glasses. Their mouth stretched in a wide, manic grin.

Levi swallowed hard. His courage returned to him swiftly, urging him to his feet. He faced the stranger head on with his face twisted in a scowl.

"What the hell are you doing?"

The intruder's grin only widened.

"Oh, Mike was right after all!"

They crossed to him quickly in two great strides. Levi twisted his head this way and that to watch them as they circled him. This close, Levi could better see the sharp hook of their nose, the angle of their jaw and the whiskey colour of their eyes, with strange, dark markings around their irises, like the face of a clock. He could also see the fingerprint smudges on their lenses. They wore all black, from their muddy boots up to the overlarge hood draped over their shoulders like a small cloak.

"Shitty four-eyes, answer me."

They let out a gleeful laugh.

"Oh, Mike my friend, you are a genius!" They said. And then, to Levi, they added, "Mike can sniff out you Guardians half a universe away, I swear."

Levi had no idea who Mike was, or what a Guardian was, and frankly, he didn't care. He levelled his home invader with a sharp glare. When he spoke again, it was through gritted teeth. "I said, what the hell are you doing climbing through my window? How? I’m three stories up!"

The stranger's smile finally faltered. They tilted their head. "I did try the doorbell."

"Why did you want to be in my house?"

"Ah, well, you see—that's kind of a long story." They turned on their heel and strode into the kitchenette. Levi watched on, incredulous, as they filled his kettle with water and set it on the stove to boil. With one hand, they reached into the cupboard above the sink and rifled through the boxes until they found Levi's stash of chamomile tea, and with the other they reached for the draining board, and plucked up two clean cups by their handles. All of this, while they watched the water begin to simmer in the pot.

They looked oddly at home expertly navigating his kitchen. As though they had been there before. They grabbed the honeypot from another cupboard, and found a spoon in one of the drawers.

"Oi," Levi said. "How'd you know where I keep all my shit?"

The stranger waved their hand flippantly, "Oh, I'm well acquainted with your layout. It never really changes, wherever you are."

"The fuck is that supposed to mean, shitty glasses?" Levi tried to inject an air of disinterested anger into his tone, but the stranger’s words, said so plainly, raised goosebumps on his skin.

They chuckled. "I can't tell you how many times we've had this conversation. I'm Hange, by the way."

Hange brought the tea over to where Levi stood, and held one cup out for Levi to take. He clenched his fists by his sides instead. The tea, upsettingly, smelled perfect; brewed at the right temperature, for the right time, and sweetened with just a drop of honey. When he didn't take the cup, Hange shrugged and set it on the little table by the armchair. They spied the broken china on the floor and smirked, "you never have much luck with that one."

"Excuse me?"

"That cup. It's the one with the gold rim, right? And all the little forget-me-nots around the outside?"

Levi said nothing. Hange, irritatingly and unexplainably, for the cup was in many pieces now and the lighting was too poor to see it in any great detail, was absolutely right.

"You still haven't answered my question," he said.

"Right, right. Like I said, it's a long story. Do you want the unabridged version or are you happy with the footnotes?"

"A summary is fine."

Hange took a great slurp of their tea. "Long story short, I pissed off some very bad people, and now they are after me for my, ah—abilities."

"But why my house?"

"Mike told me where you'd be. And boy, am I glad he did! I barely made it in time. I was aiming to land right in your sitting room, but I guess my calculations were a little off…" they trailed away with a frown. Levi watched their lips work quickly, as though they were running numbers in their head. Then they stopped, and shook themselves off. "Doesn't matter now anyway. I didn't wake you, did I? World hopping can be pretty loud."

That, at least, accounted for the sound Levi had heard outside. But...

"Hange," Levi said. "You've explained nothing."

"Give me a minute, Levi. It's complicated! There's a lot of history and I already know you don't want to hear any of it. Besides, we wouldn't have the time. We'll have to leave early in the morning."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Sure you are," Hange said. "I have to meet up with Erwin, and I need you to get me there."

"Where's there? Who the hell is Erwin?"

Again, Hange waved their hand at him. "Unimportant. Look, what matters is this: I might've messed with the timeline in another universe, and that may have caused some….upset, with some very important and very powerful people. I only changed a little bit!! I met this guy, Onyankopon—he's so cool, you know? Smart as hell. He had this idea that—well, it was the base model for an airplane."

"A what?"

"Well, see, that's the thing. Onyankopon asked the same question, and I just...told him. A little bit. I went a little too deep into the mechanics of it all, and he...well he might have developed a model that works. Two hundred years before it was supposed to exist in his universe. And now the Bureau is looking for me, but I’m not done with Erwin’s mission yet and so I am putting all my eggs in your basket. I need you to get me out of this in one piece.”

Hange looked more sheepish about this insane indiscretion than they had about breaking and entering.

"You're fucking insane," he said. Hange let out a bright laugh.

"So you've told me, more times than I can count."

Levi pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He felt a headache coming on.

"You look stressed," Hange said, sounding almost sympathetic. "Drink the tea! It'll help, though it's probably a little cold by now."

"You're the reason I'm stressed, idiot."

"Sorry about that," they said, not sounding very sorry at all. "I know the circumstances aren't...ideal. I'd much rather have come to you another time and explained everything properly, but—well, I was kind of in a hurry, and Mike sniffed you out, said you were the nearest you to my location. I didn't have much of a choice."

"Who the hell is Mike? Some kind of mutt?"

"Sort of," Hange said with a grin. "He's a Seeker. It's his job to locate people like you—people like us—when the Bureau needs us. Fortunately for me, Mike isn't overly loyal to our dear overseers—his allegiance lies with Erwin, as does mine. And Erwin is decidedly less strict about most of the timelines."

Hange circled around Levi and set their hands on his shoulders. Something strange sparked there, a heat that sunk through skin and muscle and settled right in his bones. They had already ushered him into his chair by the time he shrugged them off.

"What does any of this batshit garbage you're spewing have to do with me?"

"You are a Guardian. It's your role to protect people like me from harm."

"The hell does that mean, people like you? I’m not fighting anyone to save your scrawny ass from anything. You fucked up, you deal with it. "

Hange stood up straight and puffed out their chest. "I am a Keeper. I'm supposed to keep order in the timelines. According to the Bureau, at least. Erwin has other ideas—but that's a story for another time. For now, we should rest. Like I said, we've got to leave early in the morning."

"To go where?"

"To Erwin!" Hange said brightly. "I don't have my pocket watch anymore, so we're gonna have to take the traditional route. There's no way I'll make it on my own. And don’t worry, you won’t have to fight anyone. I’ll explain it all on the journey."

"Look,” Levi said. “Can't you just...drop out of the sky whenever this Erwin guy is? I'm sure he's got his own window you can climb through."

"No can do," Hange said. "I can only hop between universes. I need my watch to move fast within any one universe, and mine took a dunk in a river, during my escape."

"Magic bullshit technology that lets you, what, teleport across the damn globe? And it can't survive a dip in a river?"

"They aren't watertight," Hange said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And they still run on batteries. Moblit is working on improving the technology."

Levi's head throbbed. He rubbed his eyes and glowered up at Hange, who was watching him with a soft smile. Levi deepened his scowl.

"What's that shitty face for?"

Hange's expression softened further. They looked at him with so much fondness, Levi felt his face grow warm.

"I've missed you, you know," they said. "Well, not you, but—you. It's been...a really long time."

"That makes no sense," Levi said. He meant it, too—nothing Hange had said to him made sense at all. It was the stuff of storybooks, fairy tales; the product of an imagination run wild. And yet, Hange's presence, alarming as it had been and frankly still was, felt oddly familiar. The warmth of their hands still rested on his shoulders. In spite of himself, Levi felt the corner of his lip begin to curl into a small, absent smile. He wrestled it back down.

Hange laughed, a light, lilting thing, and yawned. They crossed the room to Levi's small dining table and dropped heavily into a chair.

"I suppose you're right," they said with a lazy grin. "It doesn't make any sense at all. You'll just have to trust me."

"You broke into my house. You're not selling your reliability very well. And don't even think about it."

Hange looked over at him, surprised. "Think about what?"

"Putting your filthy feet on my damn table."

"Whatever gave you the idea I'd do something like that?"

Levi opened his mouth to answer, but snapped it closed swiftly as the thought, which had come to him thoroughly unbidden, fully registered in his mind. You do it all the time.

Levi pinched his eyes, staring at Hange. They sat with a curious little tilt of their head, watching him with an open, analytical look. Levi squirmed under their gaze.

"I don't know," he said. "Seems like the kind of shit you'd do."

"Like something I've done before?"

Levi flinched, and Hange smiled all teeth at him, a strange mix of impish and pleased. They propped their elbow on the table and rested their chin on their palm. "There it is," they said quietly.

"What?" Levi asked. Too eager. Hange looked thrilled as they straightened up in their chair, eyes gleaming in the lamplight.

"There are a lot of you's, one in every single universe, just like there are a lot of Isabel's, and Farlan's, and Petra's—"

"How do you—you know what, nevermind. Go on."

"But because you're a Guardian, all your you's are linked. And because you're my Guardian," Hange looked weirdly proud at this pronouncement, "it's only natural that you remember me. It'll happen a lot, I'm sure. Try not to freak out."

Levi snorted. "You say that now?"

"Would it have made a difference if I said it earlier?"

Levi mulled that over for a second. No, he supposed it wouldn’t. He’d have thought them completely unhinged either way. Instead of answering, he picked up the tea from the table and drained it in three gulps. When he looked back at Hange, they were smiling brightly at him.

"Just how you like it, right?"

"I prefer it hot."

Hange kicked their heels against the floor and shot him an affronted look. With a petulant pout of their lip, they said, " So unfair, Levi! That's not my fault."

He shrugged them off. He would never admit it to them, but he took some bizarre delight in watching Hange's tantrum. It felt all too natural. They slumped back in their chair, head tipped over the back rest to stare at the ceiling.

"Ah, you're as cruel as ever," they said. "It's good. Very you."

Hange pushed their glasses up to their forehead and rubbed at their eyes. The scene looked painfully familiar; Hange, smiling sleepily, bleary eyed in the low blush of candlelight. Only, in the image forming in his mind, they were resting against a plump, well-fluffed pillow, and their hair was down from its ponytail, still messy and falling over their face. In the image forming in his mind, Levi's own hand reached out to brush a few strands from their cheeks, and Hange turned into his palm, their lips brushing the sensitive skin there.

Levi shook his head, face a little warm. Hange was watching him again. He scowled at them for good measure, gathering up his own cup and theirs, and washing them in the sink. He let the water run cool over his hands for a long moment.

"You should rest, if you're tired," he said. From the table, Hange hummed.

"Good idea," they said. "The bed's big enough for two, right?"

Levi turned sharply to refute them, but Hange didn't give him the chance. They had already heaved themself up out of their chair and kicked off their boots, and now, with the practiced ease of someone who had lived in the house for years, they were wandering down the hall and straight into Levi's bedroom, leaving the door open behind them.

Levi dried his hands slowly on the dish towel. He looked at the armchair, big and well-cushioned, spacious enough for him to recline in for a few hours rest. It wouldn't be the first time, and he had no doubt it would be the last. And then he looked down the hallway, where Hange must have lit the lamp; warm light spilled out into the corridor, and Levi was reminded abruptly of his strange thoughts.

This Hange, they were crazy. Talking the most nonsense Levi had ever heard come straight from another person's mouth. He would be better off resting his eyes in his chair, and kicking Hange out at first light.

That was the logical thing to do. The reasonable thing. That was the desperate plea of his better judgement.

Instead, he blew out his lamp, and stormed down the hallway after them.

"You lie on my fresh sheets in your filthy clothes and I'm throwing you back out the window, Guardian or not."

#levihan #snk #my writing #aaaah I didn't know what to do for this but I ended up having a lot of fun!!!

76 notes · View notes

leejeongz · 4 years ago

Text

nsfw a-z YOSHI (treasure)

🔅 for @ateezwhorez i hope you enjoy this honey 🥺❤️ dw the others should be written soon tooooo 🔅

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

he just feels cuddly and swoony. he’s in love with you, even more so than before even though he didn’t think that was possible. he loves to cuddle with you, just until you catch your breath again at least. he’s still still high from the whole experience, it’s the perfect time to be open and show your vulnerability even more. it’s less about the physical things he does for you, more about how you two deepen your relationship even further. he uses this time to have deep chats that slowly fade into more light hearted conversations before drifting off to sleep.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

his eyes are his favourite thing about him i think. he likes how you can understand what he wants just from looking into them. they’re intense and needy, oppressive even. they’re infatuating. they’re his secret weapon to make you obey him without even realising what you’re doing.

on you, he likes your lips. he likes how they feel on his own lips, on his neck, around his dick, anywhere and everywhere. he also just thinks they look pretty and are the perfect colour naturally, actually something he noticed about you first which he found really attractive.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

doesn’t like to make a mess at first… might even cum in a tissue the first few times because he thinks it’s more respectful.

but when he’s comfortable and such, he’d love to cum all over your hands after you finished him off with a handjob, he thinks it looks really hot and it’s enough to get him horny again hehe.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he often imagines how you'd look tied up in front of him. at his disposal. his fantasies are actually super kinky but he very rarely tells you them. he’d probably never tie you up to the extent that he dreams of doing because he doesn’t want to hurt you and he thinks of you as quite fragile 🥺

i wanna do another because my wild card was kinda short this time but he would l o v e to do a life drawing of you. like this isn’t even sexual but i don’t wanna get attacked if i write this on something that is fluff lol. it would be something that he’d treasure and something that he would be so proud of. to make it dirty since it’s a dirty secret 👀 he had a few intrusive thoughts while he drew you and found it super hard to stay hyperfocused on the drawing. if you tried to flirt with him while modelling, he’d just tell you to save it for later and that’s when he’d unleash the beast lol.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

1 sexual partner with whom he was in a relationship with. he doesn’t think about it much and when he’s with you, he’s very much focused on you. one look at you and he’s forgotten about them already.

he knows what he’s doing for the most part, but sometimes he just wants to learn new things with you, together.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

he likes facing you: missionary and cowgirl, depending on what feels natural at the time. he likes bringing his face close to yours and hovering his lips over yours, occasionally touching with every thrust. enough to feel the other’s breath, but not enough to actually kiss.

once the pace has slowed a little, he’ll give you the kiss he’s been teasing you with for what feels like hours just so that you’ll appreciate it and enjoy it all the more.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he’s quite serious in the moment. he wants to make sure that you’re enjoying yourself and that he’s doing the absolute most to exceed any expectations each and every time.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

he naturally doesn’t have much hair down there. he trims what he has and keeps it tidy since he feels it’s more intimate.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

most of the time, he’s extremely romantic during sex. he’s very into slow and sensual sex that allows you two to bond physically and emotionally. it’s important to him that he understands your wants and needs as his partner and vice versa, making the whole experience super romantic.

but that’s not all the time. sometimes he just wants to rip off your clothes and have his way with you and that’s ✨totally fine✨

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

i feel like he’s a typical laptop on desk, tissues besides him type of guy. he doesn’t do it too often, but when he does he has to fully commit because there is absolutely no way he’s stopping for anything/anyone that isn’t you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

he’s not that kinky, he’s a vanilla man. i’ll just list some sexual things that he likes hehe

whispering- he likes when you whisper close to his ear and he likes doing it to you. the tingling down his neck is intoxicating, he can’t help but want to feel it again and again. what you say is important too. he likes receiving praise. saying things like “you make me so wet” or “you turn me on so much” makes him so happy, it’s a great way to drive him crazy.

ropes- not to an extreme level, just one rope to tie your hands together behind you or in front of you.

eye contact- he likes that his eyes intimidate you of course, but you pushing past that and maintaining eye contact makes him feel a rush to MAKE you feel intimidated. he wants you to feel like he’s in charge (even if he’s not) and if he can’t do that with his eyes, then it’s pretty much over for him, but he likes that fact that you stood up to him and it turns him tf on.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

he likes sex in bed or on the floor. anywhere that he or you can lie comfortably. he likes fucking you in hotel beds. although it’s not really that dirty, it is for you two.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

gentle strokes- he likes when you trace his jawline or collarbones with your fingers, especially when you have long nails. he almost always returns the favour. he likes gently dragging his finger up and down your thigh before and between rubbing your pussy.

directness- tell him you’re turned on. tell him why you’re turned on. tell him how he turned you on. tell him how you feel and why you think he should feel the same way to. by the end of your talk, he’s gurenteed to feel the same way.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

angry sex/sex during an argument.

he wants to settle things properly first. sex isn’t a solution nor is it forgiveness. the only way he can truly be intimate with you is when you’re both happy and when you’re both on the same page. “angry” sex like that is meaningless to him, the argument mustn’t have been important if you can just forget about it so why can’t you just talk it through?

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he’s naturally a giver and oral (sex in general) is no exception. he wants you to be able to allow yourself to receive instead of forcing it upon you if you’re not used to it. he introduces his tongue slowly and always asks if what he’s doing is okay. even if you are used to it, he’s always gonna build up to it. he likes when you take the lead even when he’s eating you out, he likes when you’re giving him directions or your hands are in his hair, controlling him, because then he knows that what he’s doing is right.

not too fussed about receiving head. of course he would never say no, but he’s not one to ask for one just to finish without pleasuring you. he’s eyes are closed during the whole thing and and he lets out small, quiet cusses which he knows turn you on. also says nice stuff to you (when he can get the words out) while you’re sucking his dick because 🥺 he is nice.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

as i mentioned before, he’s slow and sensual. he keeps the experience extremely romantic and memorable. it leaves you wanting more and he knows.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

not his style. at all. he likes to draw out the details, take his time with you, ensure you've both been treated and pleasured sufficiently.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he’d only experiment with things that you’d tried before or things you’ve researched. he doesn’t wanna try anything new to the pair of you especially early on because he doesn’t wanna hurt you or leave a bad impression or anything like that. he’d never spring anything on you that you hadn’t discusssed either.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

2-3 rounds, but it totally depends on you. how much you want, how much you turn him on after, how tired you are etc.

he usually lasts for around 20 mins but needs like a 10 second breather sometimes

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

i don’t see him owning any toys but i don’t think he’d be opposed to using them. if you wanted to use them, great fantastic he’d get straight to it. he would definitely like to try them for himself at least once too.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he doesn’t tease you much, because he’d rather just do it? but i guess if you’d consider extended foreplay to the point where you have to beg him to fuck you as teasing then he’s the master lol. oH and also doesn’t just kiss you during sex, he definitely teases with those.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

tries to hold his moans and cusses back but fails lol. they’re quiet and soft but you can still hear them. he gets kind of shy about them after sex too and he doesn’t really like it when you bring it up.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

“take it off” he orders, looking directly at your chest. you remove your tshirt on command and throw it to the ground. he walks towards you, backing you into the wall behind you. it was a harsh and sudden coldness on your back, but there was something even colder in front of you. his eyes glared at you, which subconsciously made you remove your bra.

“so fucking beautiful” he growled while taking one of your breasts in his hand. it wasn’t long before he started with his tongue. he circled your nipple with his tongue while he played with the other one in his hand. your head automatically fell back, luckily resting on the wall. he slowly began to flick your nipple with his tongue before gently kissing it and moving to the other one.

your hand found its way to his hair, grabbing it and pulling it a little. you occasionally let out small gasps, which almost always made him look up at you and smile.

after a few minutes, he stood up once again, head buried in your neck as he whispered what he wanted you to do for him next.

“please, make me cum. you've turned me on so much tonight.”

that’s when it all started making sense. you’d been bowling that night with friends. this involved a lot of bending over, a lot of casual skin touches when neither of you were bowling and a LOT of whispering closely in his ear since the music was so loud. you knew he liked it when you whispered, but you didn’t know even in that context that it would send shivers down your spine. you stored that info, maybe you’d use that against him one day after he’d been teasing you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

i think average, with just a little under average thickness. i’m not sure if you can ever call a dick pretty but i feel with yoshi it would be justified, especially when it’s hard.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

i’m pretty sure it varies depending on your type of relationship. if you are a romantic partner, 3-4 times a week. if it’s just a fling, once maybe twice a week at most. he has a naturally high sex drive, but he’s less likely to take his time with someone he has no feelings for meaning he doesn’t really crave sex as often as he would with someone he’s romantically involved with.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

as i mentioned above, yoshi wants to talk to you and connect with you even further after sex. he falls asleep when he’s ready to fall asleep, which is after he’s learnt something about you that makes his heart flutter, that he can tease you about later on.

#yoshi #yoshi smut #yoshi imagine #treasure #treasure smut #treasure imagines #smut

263 notes · View notes

yuzuriha-sayori · 5 years ago

Note

hello! i really fell in love with benimaru taking care of a sick reader (；ω；) can i ask a nsfw scenario with him x reader ( something like “please be gentle” and he is like “ no” ) im sorry if this is a very stupid request (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

You asked and I finally answered! Thank you for waiting so long and so patiently as I worked through my writer’s block. I hope you enjoy this little fic that took me way too long to write! I enjoyed writing it nonetheless, dom Beni is just…yes.

NSFW Shinmon Benimaru x F!Reader

Don’t make demands of Shinmon Benimaru

Benimaru was a man of many things; quick tempered, blunt, yet hard working and respectable. However, patience was not one of those things. And for the past several days, his patience was constantly being tested. The culprit, a cute little vixen who spent most of her time causing quite the trouble for him. While he spent his days doing paperwork and cleaning up the mess that he created after Infernals would break out, she spent it causing mischief around him as if it was second nature. Not in the form of real crimes but it certainly it must be a crime somewhere.

“Shinmon-saaaaan~!” The soft mewl of the culprit at large startled the Captain out of his work. He had been writing down the reports of the recent SHC in Asakusa, a young woman who ran a vegetable stall. It was while he was working on the report that [y/n] decided to pay him a visit. She had snuck up behind him as he sat in the guest room. She wrapped her arms around his waist and placed a delicate kiss just below his ear. The feeling sent a jolt down to his stomach and he furrowed his brow.

“[y/n], don’t you see I’m busy? Go find something entertaining like pestering Konro.” Benimaru said, trying to shrug the young woman off of him. He was met with blatant protest.

“I don’t want to!” She whined, nipping at his neck. “You haven’t spent time with me in weeks, I’m beginning to think that you’re not interested in me anymore.”

The raven-haired man had to fight of the urge to let out the grunt that began to travel out his mouth at the feeling of her nipping at his neck. He had so little patience. It not that he wasn’t interested in her, it’s that her drive had been out of control lately and he always ended up pounding her into the sheets until morning, leaving barely any time for him to complete his tasks.

[y/n] didn’t take being ignored lightly so she moved in front of him and slid into his lap, rolling her hips against him so he could feel the scorching heat between her legs. Her hands snaked over his shoulders and she buried her face into the crook of his neck, the warmth of her breath fanning over his sensitive skin. “But I need you. Pleeeease.” Her voice was soft and desperate, and it would have been a lie if he said he wasn’t thinking about shoving her down right then in there and making a mess of her throbbing cunt that was soaking into his pants.

His lips parted to let out a throaty moan but caught it in his throat and grabbed her by the shoulders, pushing her back. “[y/n] I’m not going to say it again, not right now. I’ll make time for you later. I’m busy.”

His lover pouted, tears threatening to spill over, but she nodded in understanding. After removing herself from his lap, she stopped at the door and glanced once more over at Benimaru to see that he was back to staring at his papers. She did the same thing every time she pestered him; he had learned her routine down to the time. About two hours later, she would come to him asking for snacks, tea, or a walk and try to tease him again until he couldn’t stand it and was sending her off again.

Finally done with his work, he realized it had gotten quite late. Where was [y/n]? He realized that she didn’t come to pester him. It was strange at first, but he dismissed it and though that she must have went home. After a few stretches to loosen the tight muscles of sitting down for so long, he made his way to the bath house for a soak. Usually by now, she was trying to find her way in, or was already in but there was no sign of [y/n]. Throughout the entire time he was bathing, he heard no peep of her. “[y/n]?” He called out. Maybe she was hiding? But still no sound. An uneasy feeling settled into his stomach. It’s not like he wanted her to come bug him, he rarely had time for himself. He just wasn’t used to it.

The sound of feet hitting the tiled ground of the bathhouse made him whip around expectantly only to be met with his Lieutenant’s confused and slightly amused expression. “I didn’t see or hear [y/n] around here so I thought it was clear to take a bath. What’s with that face Waka? Disappointed?”

Benimaru furrowed his brows and the corners of his lips tugged down into a frown. “I’m not disappointed.”

“Well, I did see [y/n] leave a couple of hours ago after having a stroll with Hika and Hina.” He watched as Benimaru’s shoulders sank ever so slightly and then raise to hoist himself out of the bath. “Maybe she’ll come back tomorrow.”

“Well, I hope not.” His Captain said, throwing his dark blue striped robe around him and tying it. He ran his fingers through his hair, combing the wet strands back away from his face. “I have a lot of work tomorrow too and don’t need more distraction. Enjoy your bath.”

“You know, you should really let me handle some, I’m your Lieutenant after all.”

Benimaru didn’t answer him as he walked out of the bathhouse and towards his room. He didn’t know how to explain what he was feeling. Slightly irritated? No, there wasn’t a reason to. He didn’t miss her, or at least that’s what he told himself. His mind wandered back to the events of earlier, where [y/n] was desperately grinding against him. He could feel how aroused she was just by the heat radiating between her legs. It took only seconds for her to soak down to his cock.

Just the thought of how he could’ve taken her then caused heat to flow down to his dick and swell up. “Fucking shit, now? Really?” He groaned at how painful it was becoming and hurried to his room. It had been quite some time since he took care of it. Actually, it was always [y/n] taking care of it for him. He cursed at himself. And he was the one who sent her away.

Finally at his door, relief flooded through him. All he could think about was how he was going to be able to take care of his problem when he slid open his door. However, there were other plans waiting for him.

Prostrated with their ass to him and stark naked on the bed was [y/n]. Benimaru’s eyes flew open is confusion and surprised. “[y/n]? What the hell are you doing here? I thought you left.”

“I couldn’t stand it anymore…Beni…please.” Two delicate fingers reached down to spread her dripping lips apart, juices running down her thighs and dripping onto the bed. The sight sucked the air right out of his lungs. His already painful erection began to pulsate in need, wanting to feel the clenching of her walls around him. He could see how bad she wanted him, and damn did he want her too.

He made his way to her in only a few strides, standing behind her and taking a good look at how much she was pining for him. “You didn’t come pester me for the rest of the day.” Smack. A startled yelp left [y/n]’s lips.

“You told me not to.” She turned to look at him and was met with a deadpan expression. Smack. Another small cry was brought out of her.

“Don’t backtalk me.” His voice was calm but [y/n] could feel the irritation in it. Was he upset at her for being in his room or for listening? He wasn’t even sure at this point, but he felt the need to punish her. Untying his robe, he let it slip from his shoulders and down to pool around his feet. His erection stood proudly, each vein prominent on the sensitive skin of his shaft. Crouching down to position himself behind her, he gave himself a few pumps and lined his member up to her eager hole. He could feel the pulsing of her pink entrance just ready to swallow whole.

“Please hurry~!” [y/n] whined. It earned her another slap on her ass. Though painful, it caused her cunt to flow with more juices and Benimaru took the liberty of smearing it all over his length.

“Naughty girls don’t get to make requests. You do as I say.” Another whine left [y/n]’s lips but she wouldn’t dare say another word against him. This was the first time in weeks he’d shown her any sexual interest. He grabbed her hips roughly in his big hands and rolled his hips as his cock slid between her pink folds, the head of his cock teased her clit and occasionally her entrance. “You pester me for weeks on end and think you can make demands of me?”

“N-No sir.” Her voice was shaky and soft, her mind was too focused on the sensation of him between her legs. Such little teasing and she was already at her limit. “Beni wait…! I’m…I-I’m-!” The first orgasm in weeks that weren’t by her own fingers washed through her like a violent storm. Her legs shook at her whole body tensed up as a feral moan drew from her mouth. Her legs started to relax and go limp and she would have collapsed completely onto the futon if it weren’t for Benimaru’s solid grasp on her.

It would be a lie to say that he wasn’t immensely turned on by the fact she got off just by him teasing her, but he wasn’t having her give out just yet. “I haven’t even put it in and you’re already finishing? I don’t think so you little minx.” Positioning the tip to her entrance again, he slammed into her without giving her the chance to recover. The sudden intrusion caused her to buck forward and cry out.

“W-Wait please I’m still really sensitive.” [y/n] whimpered. Her walls clenched tightly around him that it was almost uncomfortable for both. It’d been quite a while since she took his impressively large member in that she wasn’t prepared for him to stretch her out so suddenly. The feeling of being so full so quickly ignited a fire in her belly.

“What did I say about making demands?” Benimaru pulled out only to slam back into her. Gritting his teeth, he let out a deep growl. “Fuck it’s almost hard to pull out, you’re gripping my cock like your life depends on it. Miss me that much?”

[y/n] could only let out soft pants in pleasure as her legs trembled. She was so sensitive, and he wasn’t giving her any time to adjust. She felt as if she was going to drown in pleasure. “Please…please be gentle.” She pleaded once more. If he kept being as rough as he was, she didn’t think she’d be able to walk out of here any time soon.

Benimaru’s hand shot out the grab a fistful of [y/n]’s [h/c] locks, strands tangling in-between his fingers, and pulled her up as he leaned down to let his lips graze her ear.

“No.”

He could feel her clench down around him which caused his voice to come out huskier than he intended. It was hard to speak when her tight walls didn’t want to let him go. He kept one hand in her hair, and the other gripping her hip as he started drilling into her sloppily wet cunt.

“Beni…oh my…my god…fuck!” Each thrust sent jolts of electricity coursing through [y/n]’s body. It wasn’t that long ago that she had her first orgasm of the night and the second one was approaching at terrifying speeds. His brutal strokes did not help. He rocked his hips into her harshly, the sound of skin slapping against skin vibrated off the walls. He didn’t care who heard, his only focus was fucking the life out of [y/n].

Strings of curses and pleas fell on deaf ears as he continued pounding into her. The soft warm feeling of her slick walls was something he missed terribly and wondered why it took him this long to treat himself to her wanting cunt. “Fuck [y/n] how can you be this tight still?” He figured it would take a bit for her to relax around him, but she was still clutching on him for dear life, crying out his name as if it were the only word she knew.

His voice was all it took to send his lover over the edge as another orgasm racked her body. The sudden tightness made his hips stutter and he had to still himself less he spilled all that he had saved up into her right that moment. “[y/n]…shit…!”

Her orgasm was so intense that she sobbed out his name and he released her hair and stroked her back to comfort her through it. “That’s it, just relax…” Her body was slick with sweat and he was getting quite worked up himself. Strands of his raven hair was plastered to his forehead and sweat ran down his chest. His cock was still buried deep inside her, the tip pressed right up against her cervix. Her body still trembled as he began slowly rolling his hips. He was going to get one or two more out of her before he emptied himself into her. But at this rate, he might only get one because he was close to his limit.

“I can’t…Beni I can’t!” Her voice was a pitch too high and the only thing she could see were stars. She was going to go crazy if he kept moving. “Please it’s too much.”

“You wanted this so bad, you’re going to take what I give you. I’m going to give you a week’s worth of orgasms.” Benimaru began picking up the pace but his strokes were gentle this time. “You won’t be able to walk straight for days.”

[y/n]’s moans came out more as sobs and sharp cries as he fucked her. The pleasure was too intense. She was going to break if she came again. Benimaru didn’t care if he made her go crazy, this was exactly what she asked for. Both hands gripped her hips as he took a steady pace thrusting in and out of her. The tight feeling in his gut was growing and he clenched his teeth. He was determined to make her cum one more time. One hand let go of her hip to slide down between her legs and his fingers made quick work of her clit. [y/n] immediately clamped down around his cock.

“N-No please don’t! I can’t!” She tried to pry his hand away, but he was much stronger. He could feel that another orgasm was about come over her with how high her voice was getting, and how tighter she was becoming. His free arm went to scoop her up so that her back was to his chest as he rutted up into her. One arm held her as he bounced her up and down his cock while he teased her swollen pink bud.

“That’s it, come for me sweetheart.” His pace quickened to catch up to her orgasm, letting soft grunts fall from his lips. The heat building in his stomach became more intense and his strokes became sloppy as he slammed into her, hitting her cervix with each stroke.

“A-Ahh!” [y/n] screamed once more as explosive pleasure made work of her soul. She shuddered intensely, eyes rolling to the back of her head, and tongue lolling out of her mouth. Saliva ran down her chin from the corners of her mouth from sheer bliss. It only took a few more juts of his hips before all of Benimaru’s saved up cum finally burst free, his balls tightening as he came. A strained moan came out as he wrapped his arms around her and buried himself as deep as he could get, pushing up against her cervix. He buried his face into the crook of her neck and let out another moan against her skin, his hips jerking a few times. It felt like he was cumming forever as spurts of his seed coated every inch inside her and spilled out, running down his twitching balls and dribbling onto the futon.

“Shit…” He lifted her limp body off of him and more of his thick seed came gushing from her twitching hole. A whimper left her as he pulled out. He did tell himself that he was going to make a mess of her, but he didn’t consider the bed apart of the equation. Sighing softly, he gently laid her down and used his robe to clean her up, then himself, and then wiped all of his cum off his bed.

[y/n]’s body finally stopped twitching but forming words were still too much for her. “You…are…You’re mean…” She mumbled, eyes half lidded. He figured she was still off in her own little world as he laid down beside her after tossing his robe to the other side of the room. “You say that while your face shows contentment.”

“Shut up.” She weakly smacked his chest as he was pulling to covers up over them, but it only caused him to chuckle lightly.

“The twins hit harder than that.”

[y/n] could only grumble in response. Silence fell upon them and he figured she must have finally passed out. He was dozing off himself, completely spent after all the work he put into destroying her insides, when he heard his lover’s soft voice, “Beni…?”

“Yeah?”

“I want to cuddle you.” He didn’t answer right away, kind of perplexed. He didn’t know why she was saying that as if to ask him. She usually did it anyways, clinging to him almost every night she could like he wouldn’t be there when she woke up. Though it was kind of cute if she was asking.

“You can?”

There was a long moment of silence before she responded and he thought she passed out when she finally spoke, “I…I can’t move my legs…”

A surprisingly hearty laugh left Benimaru. Of all the things, he didn’t expect to fuck [y/n] that hard. They had rough sex before, but he guessed it really must have been quite some time if she couldn’t move her legs. He felt a bit satisfied as he pulled her to him and hiked her leg up and over him. Her arm snaked up his chest and to his head, fingers running through still damp hair and rested there, a content smile on her face. He kissed the top of her head and watched her doze off, following moments after. She really was a little vixen, and she always got her way.

#shinmon benimaru #benimaru x reader #fire force #x reader

1K notes · View notes

spectrumed · 3 years ago

Text

3. sadness

Don’t be like that. Be like this, or be that other thing. Be unique, but don’t be too unique. Fit in, but try to be a rebel. Be a renegade, but don’t rock the boat. Don’t know what you are supposed to be? What? Do you have imposter syndrome or something? Just be yourself, but, y’know, sand down the edges a little bit. Be friendlier. Be the kind of person everyone likes. Be the life of the party! Don’t be some shut-in, some crazy cat-lady with absolutely zero social life. Don’t be sad. Don’t burden others with your sadness. Work to maximise the total happiness of your community. A smile goes a long way. Can’t smile? You really can’t help but being a sourpuss all the time? Well, I guess maybe that if you can’t help but stay in a perpetual bad mood bringing everyone else down… then maybe you should just stay isolated? Better stay alone, away from others. You’re toxic. You’re just so damned sad. You really must be quarantined.

I am sad, a lot of the time. Are you? But, no, you can’t just admit that you are sad. Don’t be a buzzkill, try to inject a little humour into the things you say. You can admit you’re depressed, if you do so with a joke. Don’t let others know you’re being sincere. Ironic jokes work the best, don’t they? They let you confess your secret gloom to everyone around, but they’ll never know just how serious you’re being. With a wink of the eye, any candid expression of your inner turmoil can become a hilarious post-modern gag. Are they or are they not telling the truth? Oh, I’ll never tell! And it will all work out excellent, up until the day you commit suicide. But every comedian’s time in the limelight has to end at some point, right?

This blog is supposed to be about autism spectrum disorder, why am I suddenly discussing depression? Well, I suppose that it is time we bring to the table this little thing called comorbidity. Psychology is messy. Some would argue that it is barely even a real scientific field (I tend to think that it is the best thing we have, but I acknowledge that in places, psychology is fundamentally flawed.) You may have thought that you’d get just one diagnosis. One simple label that you can work through and overcome. You’re bipolar, now go deal with it! But instead, you find yourself with a whole fistful of diagnoses. What to hear my proud list of diagnoses? Oh, please, don’t think because I am listing them this one certain way, I put them in order of relevancy to me. I love all of my diagnoses equally.

My diagnoses are:

Generalised Anxiety Disorder (GAD)

Social Anxiety Disorder (SAD)

Agoraphobia

Possible Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD)

Asperger syndrome (AS)

No, I was never officially diagnosed with depression, but largely because, at the time I received these diagnoses, my depression was so blatant that it felt as if I was walking around with a cloud of miasma surrounding at all times. Imagine me as Pig-Pen from Peanuts, but instead of being covered in dirt, I was covered in the funk of melancholy. And whatever treatment I would eventually go on to receive (and still am receiving to this day,) would go about treating my anxiety first, and hopefully, the depression would give in alongside the anxiety. It has, for the most part, though, I still feel the presence of that black dog from time to time. I also got only a half-hearted potential diagnosis of OCD, but later, during a trial of an antidepressant that had a freakishly negative impact on my psyche, it blossomed into a fully-grown attention-craving condition. Turns out that OCD can be a real hog for the spotlight, really not allowing any of the other diagnoses to take their turn on stage. Thankfully, when I got off that particular antidepressant, those symptoms stopped, but it has led me to be far more aware of my internal obsessive-compulsive thought patterns. For me, OCD largely lacks physical compulsions, but my mind is ablaze with intrusive thoughts, and I will routinely force myself to repeat certain phrases in my head to make them go away. The funny thing is, I never realised that wasn’t normal.

Diagnoses are an attempt to map out a spiders’ web of problems. Things come hand in hand. While I’m no psychologist, I can speak from the perspective of someone who has been through the psychiatric process, which I suppose, lends me a certain kind of expertise, doesn’t it? Maybe it really doesn’t. Maybe I’m just throwing words out there, thinking that I could serve a good purpose, but instead all I am doing is contributing to this great onslaught of digital disinformation we’re all suffering under. But I’m probably just too doubtful of myself. I am speaking about myself, after all. I’ve got first-hand experience in being myself. I know exactly what it feels like to own this skin, these bones, this heart, and this mushy brain of mine. I’m not claiming to know everything. I’m just claiming to know about this one sad individual writing this hoping it might allow someone to reblog my posts with the hashtag “relatable” one day.

Anxiety runs in my family. The neurosis demon gets passed down from generation to generation, only occasionally skipping a beat. My mother and I share many of the same neurotic quirks, though, she has for the most part of her life not had it to quite the excessive degree that I have it. I really took that genetic predisposition for anxiety and ran with it. And while I’m the only person in my family to have gotten diagnosed as being “on the spectrum,” there are a few members that I kinda sort of in a way actually quite seriously suspect might also be here somewhere on the spectrum. Still, as always goes with diagnosing, there’s no point in doing it unless the person is in need of some kind of treatment. I wholeheartedly believe that most people on the planet belong to one spectrum, be it an autism spectrum, a bipolar spectrum, a narcissism spectrum, even a schizophrenic spectrum, but diagnoses should be exclusively reserved for those who need psychiatric care. The world is a spectrum, and it’s worth noting that the terms “sane” and “insane” do not alone capture the complexity of the human psyche. A person can appear perfectly sensible, yet at some point in their life, they may have been a real silly little bugger who thought that their pet hamster was the reincarnation of the Buddha. Just as with physical health, one can struggle with one's mental health for one period in their life, only to later on in life feel utterly and entirely mentally healthy. Or, well, sadly in a lot of cases, people who were perfectly mentally healthy may suddenly become diagnosed with dementia. But that’s really sad, so let’s not talk about that.

Is it all genetic? Well, no. Or well, maybe? In regards to autism, I am pretty sure that, yes, it is genetic. While, yes, I do admit that I’m just a dummy on the internet, so what do I really know? And the brain is such a complex bit of mushy meat, so I could always be proven wrong. Though, I tend towards thinking that there most likely is principally a genetic factor to conditions like autism, or attention deficit disorder (and attention deficit hyperactivity disorder,) or things like bipolar disorder. But with anxiety, quite frankly, I can’t say how much of it is nurture and how much of it is nature. I mentioned that my mother and I share many of the same neurotic quirks, so that would imply that there is something in one's genes that can make some more prone to anxiety than others, but my mother does not struggle with agoraphobia, nor does she seem to have any obsessive-compulsive tendencies. In fact, in my family, even those that exhibit some element of heightened anxiety, they don’t seem to show any milder symptoms of this kind. I can’t help but feel as if these conditions I gained through that tortuous period of every boy’s and girl’s (and boy-girl’s) life is called puberty. I hate to conform to stereotypes but I did indeed hate being a teenager. Believe it or not, I wasn’t a jock, and no, I didn’t go to parties. I mostly spent my time crying.

The question that no doubt plagues every movie psychiatrist to no end is what kind of trauma must a person undergo to make them go mad? Abusive parents? Abusive uncles? Abusive teachers? Abusive dogs? Honestly, to be an adult raising a child must be rough, considering how any mistake you make might suddenly turn your little babe into a future serial killer. Now, there’s no doubt that there are some seriously terrible parents out there, and that a lot of people have mental woes that definitely came about due to their parents and their abysmal lack of parental care. But generally, how much can you actually blame on your parents? We know the cliché, let’s go sit down on the sofa and complain to our Freudian hack-shrink all about those times as a kid our dad missed the big game, or that time our mother embarrassed us in front of all of our friends. I have plenty of things to complain about my parents, like I believe we all have. Our parents are flawed, messy human beings, of course they occasionally made mistakes throughout our upbringings. But is that nearly enough to turn a person mentally ill? Putting up with an at times really embarrassing mom? No, I don’t think so. And of course, there are some real awful parents out there, I’m not doubting that. Trust me, I’m a fan of true crime, so I’ve heard some real grizzly stories of what some kids are forced to grow up with. But I am thinking that those instances are more rare than they are common. Most people with mental illnesses can most likely not blame their parents.

How ‘bout bullies? Yes, them bullies. Them awful mean bullies that made all of our lives so painful. It’s funny, it seems like every school had their own fair share of bullies, and yet no-one as an adult ever comes forward to admit that they themselves were the bullies. It’s almost like as if no-one ever thinks of themselves as being a bully, even when they are throwing rocks at that weird chubby kid with blonde hair who happens to be named Fredrik and who just wants to be left alone. Was I bullied? Well… yes. But I can’t say I got the brunt of it. I got bullied, but overall I’d say I only ever had it slightly worse than most people. I was still quite tall, typically taller than my classmates growing up, and for the most part I could roll with the punches. If you really want to talk about a kid I knew growing up that got bullied, let me tell you about this kid who knew all the right dances for all the right Britney Spears songs. He was gay, I think. Not quite old enough to have come out, I suspect, but, well... He liked all the female pop stars, but not in that way of wanting to kiss them and fondle their boobies, but in the “I want to sound just like them when I grow up” sort of way. I don’t know what happened to him (or them, or her, depending on how they identify now,) but that was real bullying. Like most folks, I found myself stuck in that limbo of seeing others get bullied far worse than me and being too cowardly to intervene, in fears that I’d end up taking their place. Yes, isn’t school just a marvellous place? It’s a wonder any of us turn out okay.

No, I think that, fundamentally, the problems I have arose with myself. This, blaming myself, is not something that I am unused to doing. I have a long history of blaming myself, that’s really the problem. As a teenager I knew that I was different, and I was frightened and scared of being exposed. I didn’t even really know what it was that was different about me, I just knew that I didn’t fit in. I felt as if I didn’t deserve to fit in. The older I got, the more intense these feelings got. And I started taking it out on myself. I started hating myself. And I really mean furiously hating myself. It wasn’t some casual self-loathing, it was searing self-hatred. I did not physically hurt myself, but I did engage with self-harm. I kept repeating the mantras of “I hate myself,” and “I am pathetic,” over and over again, with the ultimate goal of making myself cry. For a period, I couldn’t go to bed without making myself cry first. I began taking days off from school, pretending to be sick. Well, I suppose I was ill, but not physically. I began failing most of my classes, I only ended up doing well in art. I stayed away from school for whole weeks at the time. Once, when I shame-facedly returned to school some of the meaner boys came up to me and said that they were surprised to learn that I was still alive. They were surprised, but also a little disappointed.

This was a time in my life when I really needed psychiatric care. This became increasingly obvious to my parents, and my teachers. I was clearly suffering from depression. Not just some teenaged angst, but full-blown, wholly insidious, depression. But, well, I didn’t get the care that I needed. Oh, I did go to see a psychologist a couple of times, but she saw no reason for me to continue seeing her. I don’t know why she felt as if I wasn’t in need of help, frankly, I can’t fathom why she felt as if I wasn’t in need of help. I suppose I avoided telling her the truth of what went on inside of my head, but I feel like as if any good psychologist would have been able to tell that the kid sitting across from them was clearly suffering from something a tad more intense than just some common concerns about puberty. At most I was able to confess was that I was feeling ashamed over myself for getting so fat, but it should have been clear to anybody that I was only using that as a hook to hang my self-hatred on. There very clearly was some underlying condition that I had that should have gotten addressed. But it went ignored.

At most I can think to explain this is the fact that I wasn’t “problematic.” Not in the way some kids are, when they’re struggling with their mental health. I did not act out, I did not take drugs, and I was certainly not violent. Even to this day, though I have at many times suffered from suicidal ideation, I am a real low-risk for actual suicide considering my intense fear of dying (yes, that’s an odd combo to have.) So, I’ve come to realise that the only way I am getting treatment is if I actually seek out treatment. And back then, I was just as placid as I had previously always been. I was quiet and introverted, just desperate to get back home so I could go and hide in my room. Many teenagers are like that. And it is easy to ignore them, because they want to be ignored. They just don’t want to exist. When you are desperate to be left alone, eventually people will leave you alone. I would go on to receive psychiatric care later on my life, but only after several years passed. I did have a better time living in my later teenage years, but like with a bone that heals wrong, I needed someone to come in and sort me out. I was sad as a teenager, but I would become really sad as a twenty-something. Hopefully my thirties will be jolly.

#neurodiversity #neurodivergent #autism spectrum disorder #autism #aspergers #mental health

7 notes · View notes

scripttorture · 4 years ago

Note

Hey! My character is made into an experiment by the government due to him having a supernatural ability. The one who handed him over was his partner, who has been a part of that organization all along. He is usually a very confident person, powerful and extroverted. I'm not sure how his mental state is supposed to change? I don't feel like the whole loosing their will to live and becoming incredibly depressed thing would fit him as a person. How could I still show that the torture effects him?

There isn’t a sure fire answer to how any one person will change when they’re tortured. We know the possible symptoms, but most people won’t experience every possible symptom and we don’t have a way to predict who gets what.

There’s a post that talks about the possible symptoms over here.

Here’s the thing though: there is a lot of variety in survivors, in the symptoms they get and the way they personally express those symptoms. Some people do become suicidal. Some people do become depressed. And some people do lose their faith in humanity.

But there is not one universal survivor experience.

This means that there’s a big range in realistic responses. It also means that as a writer you actually have a lot of options. You should be picking 3-5 symptoms from the list of possible options, but the list has 14 things on it and some of those things can manifest in multiple ways.

I think that, since we can’t predict symptoms, the best thing you can do as a writer is pick symptoms based on what you feel fits your character and story best.

Depression and suicidal thoughts don’t do that, so let’s have a look at some of the others.

Memory problems are incredibly common in real survivors and are almost never portrayed accurately in fiction. You can read about the four basic types here.

I’d really encourage you to use one of these if you feel it fits your story. They create a lot of interesting narrative challenges for the character and they can make for really good emotional/introspective moments. If for instance you want to explore self-doubt giving the character memories he later finds out are inaccurate could feed into that, leading to him questioning whether he ‘really’ was betrayed.

General forgetfulness (ie low level difficulty forming memories) can give the character a lasting disadvantage in everyday life, creating a much more traditional injury-recovery arc as he tries to find adaptions to this new normal.

Intrusive memories, when handled well, can help create a deeper connection between the reader and the character. Because it lets you create situations where the character’s mood flips in an instant, the other characters don’t understand why but the readers do.

Memory loss can be trickier, mostly because it’s rarely handled well in fiction. It doesn’t effect older memories, such as childhood memories, the person’s name etc. It almost never effects memories of torture itself. But it does effect other aspects of the time they’re held, the period prior to capture and sometimes a few weeks after release. It’s a distressing and disorientating experience and it’s a good pick if there’s any sort of investigation or prosecution.

Because memory problems (especially memory loss and inaccurate memories) are a big part of why torture trials are really hard to conduct. Having the character find that he doesn’t actually remember the crucial details and watching the process of people trying and failing to help him, that can be a really powerful addition. It’s also a good way to form a rift between him and his friends without depression or having him lose faith in others. It gives a reason for any distance between them, even if it’s an emotional rather then logical reason.

Read through the masterpost and really think about whether any of these memory problems could fit your story.

Narratively speaking memory problems don’t link the character’s personality but they do have a strong impact on plots and sub-plots. Memory loss, inaccurate memories and intrusive memories will all effect the character’s emotional arc and sense of self. They can also throw up barriers for the character.

He might be missing a couple of crucial details about his life before he was snatched. He might have some key details about how and where he was snatched wrong. Think about how those sorts of problems could feed into your plot, because they can add interesting conflicts and challenges.

Chronic pain is also incredibly common in torture survivors and it often doesn’t have a single cause. Back, muscular and joint pain are particularly common.

It can lead to a character seeming angry, unapproachable, anti-social or like they have a hair-trigger temper. It can also make it seem as though they have really bad mood swings or a short temper.

This can lead to interesting character moments as non-survivors struggle to empathise with an ‘asshole’ while the survivor is struggling to express the fact they’re in physical pain. It can also lead in to discussions of disability and the way we treat invisible disabilities in society.

It can also often be improved by, again, life style adjustments and sometime medication.

If you wanted to use addiction as a symptom then chronic pain is a common reason behind addiction in survivors. Essentially they start taking more and more powerful pain medications in order to try and feel ‘normal’.

Chronic pain doesn’t always lead to addiction though. Making good, consistent life style adjustments (using a mobility aid, being able to sit instead of having to stand for long periods and so on) can help keep pain at manageable levels allowing a healthy relationship with pain medication.

Insomnia is another really common symptom in survivors. This basically means the character is always at least slightly sleep deprived. Which has knock on effects on absolutely every part of a person’s life.

You can read about the effects of sleep deprivation here.

I’d suggest thinking carefully about what you need the character to do before using this one. It might sound counter intuitive but a character with disabling chronic pain is probably more capable of the occasional bout of superheroics then a chronically sleep deprived character is.

Insomnia caused by mental illness is also notoriously difficult to treat. Medication for the mental health problems survivors tend to have makes it harder to sleep and reduces the quality of sleep. Medication to ‘make’ people sleep often decreases the quality of sleep, when it works. It does not work for everyone.

Essentially don’t treat insomnia as an ‘easy’ option with less impact on the character. It impacts every part of a person’s life, making them more likely to get sick, slower to react, more emotionally volatile and less able to learn/remember everything.

There are so many things that insomnia effects that- well I find it easiest to think of it as a permanent lowering of ability across all categories. This does not mean that a character automatically becomes incapable of things; it means they are worse at them then they were before.

If they were already really good at something then other people might not notice the difference. But the character himself will. Which can have a knock on effect on self esteem.

Any of the things I’ve mentioned can result in social isolation. Because survivors can come across as aggressive, volatile and inconsiderate which can lead to people… avoiding them. Especially when other characters don’t have a good understanding of mental illness or experience dealing with trauma survivors. (Having said that, remember that a pretty significant proportion of the population experiences mental health problems at some point in their life. Think about how likely experience vs ignorance is, rather then assuming one or the other.)

Isolation exacerbates pre-existing mental health problems.

And any combination of the above symptoms make up the frame work of any long term personality change. For instance you describe this character as confident and capable: if he gets multiple forms of memory problems does that impact his confidence in certain areas? And if it does how does he cope with that? It could be by expressing his self-doubt but it could also be by taking a more passive role within a group, letting others take the lead instead of stepping in.

I have an old ask over here that goes through how I pick symptoms for a character and how I vary them depending on the sort of plot I have in mind.

Wrapping up, I think that we make these symptoms individual when we consider how the symptoms interact and what that means for the character.

Depression does not have to mean someone looks overtly miserable. It can look like nausea, like struggling to eat and sleep, like being quieter in social situations. It can feel like going through life disconnected from the world, not so much the presence of misery as the absence of joy.

You’ve listed these characteristics; confidence, power, extroverted and survivors can hold on to all those things. As always the central point is nuance. Because that confidence probably won’t be completely unshaken anymore, that extroversion might not be effortless anymore, his relationship with that power could change.

The character might have developed a lot of self doubt and, though it’s a struggle, continue to make firm ‘confident’ decisions because he feels that’s important either to himself or to everyone else. It could be a way of him showing that he’s still ‘strong’, that he survived, that he can still support the other characters.

The character could still be extroverted and depending on the symptoms you pick socialising might be harder, it could take up more energy. He might be hiding the cost from his friends. Or, another common way it plays out, is that he could just come across as… a lot more inappropriate: making dark ‘jokes’ that non-survivors don’t find funny, having obvious mood swings that make others uncomfortable. You get the idea.

Torture does change people. But those changes are unpredictable and they often don’t look like we expect.

Our fiction often tries to use depression and suicidal ideation as an excuse to turn survivors into passive objects. They are not.

One of the things that stood out to me the more I looked at prominent survivors was anger. Because yes, despair is possible, common even. But so is spite and vitriol and rage. So is determination.

There is more then one way to be powerful. Confidence does not need to be unshakable to be real.

In essence: you are aiming for an understandable change in what is already there, not an excision of the characteristics you’ve already established.

As a final note you might want to take a look at the masterposts I have on medical experiments (which you can find here and also here.) It’s worth deciding whether you want to show unethical but genuine experiments, or torture. You can have a look through the tags on unethical experimentation and pseudo-scientific torture for more information.

I hope that helps. :)

Available on Wordpress.

Disclaimer

#writing advice #tw torture #tw medical abuse #writing survivors #writing recovery #tw suicide #effects of torture #torture and memory #chronic pain #insomnia #choosing symptoms #writing symptoms #unethical experimentation #pseudo scientific torture #fantasy ask

75 notes · View notes

parvulous-writings · 4 years ago

Text

David Stephens x Reader // SFW alphabet

Requested by: @peter-hughes-harmonies

Warnings: Insinuations of murder

Summary: SFW alphabet for David Stephens, from Shallow Grave.

Notes: I enjoyed working on this very much! I know some sections are a little on the short side, but I didn’t want to make it seem like I was babbling on with everything! Enjoy!

Not my gif

A - Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Typically, in front of others, David is not an affectionate guy. He’s practical, not sentimental.That is not to say of course, he doesn’t show affection at all. He just shows it in a different way to most. He’ll sit with you and watch some tv shows- though with him it’s more like critiquing sometimes. In terms of physical affection, he’ll occasionally give brief kisses, and on rare occasions he’ll give you a warm hug. If he knows you’ve had a bad day at work, he’ll find you a little trinket to keep you amused or cheer you up, but he’d leave it on your nightstand rather than give it to you face to face.

B - Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? Where does the friendship start?)

He can very much be the stereotypical quiet friend sometimes. There of course are many occasions where he will pipe up with his own opinion on a subject- whether he agrees, disagrees, or sits on the fence. He’s actually got quite a knack for debating, which can lead to some very enlightening conversations about subjects you’d often think as incredibly boring.

C - Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He isn’t really that fussed on cuddles, in all honesty. He’ll give you one if you’ve had a hard day, but in a usual situation, it’s not really likely. He’s not exactly one for frequent physical contact.

D - Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking, cleaning, ect?)

This man does do very well in the cleaning department, let’s give credit where credit is due. Cooking, however, that’s more left to Alex and occasionally Juliet. Settling down? Well, in his mind he sort of already has settled down. He’s got a steady job, a nice home, and you. Boom, he’s settled.

E - Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Oh boy, would David be a little too blunt about it. He does not see the point in trying to sugar coat anything in a situation like this, so he’ll just say it how it is. If it’s a problem with him, an issue with you, whatever it may be that caused the break up, he’d be the kind of man to say it outright to you.

F - Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? Do they wanna get married?)

Once he’s entirely sure he can trust you with every little detail of his life, and he knows you can do the same for him, then yes. He’d love to marry you. He’s not fearful of commitment, after he warms up to the concept a little bit of course.

G - Gentle (How gentle are they both physically and emotionally?)

Whilst he can be very closed off emotionally, during brief moments where he opens up, he can be incredibly gentle. It’s the same with the physical side of things too, unless he is angry or upset and becomes aggressive towards others.

H - Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it, and what are they like?)

Like cuddles, he isn’t that fussed on them. He’ll give them if you’ve had a bad day or are quite clearly down in the dumps. There has been one or two occasions where he’s asked you for a hug, but he has never revealed the reason behind it to you.

I - I Love You (How fast do they say the “love” word?)

Not fast at all. (I mean faster than Alex probably would, but still, the man’s pretty closed off.) Though, when he does finally utter those words to you, quiet as they may be, he means them with every fibre of his heart.

J - Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What are they like when jealous?)

Not that he’d ever admit it to you even when you ask, but he does get jealous. Very jealous. Remarkably jealous. Horrendously jealous, in fact. He’ll become completely and utterly silent for the next few days, not bringing it up, not even speaking to his flatmates or you. Once, you saw someone reported missing, one who had spoken to you a few days prior, sparking David’s jealousy.

K - Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Brief. Almost always brief and fleeting. The corner of your mouth or you temple are his favourite places to kiss you, and his favourite place to be kissed is the cheek- simple, yet endearing.

L - Little Ones (How are they around kids?)

He’s largely indifferent towards children, neither liking them or disliking them. There’s not much else to say on this side of things.

M - Morning (What are mornings like with them?)

Largely uneventful. Like every other morning, in a way. He’ll make you a cup of your favourite beverage for you, offer you a slice or two of toast, before he heads off to work.

N - Nights (How are nights spent with them?)

Also, like the mornings, largely uneventful. You may all sit with Juliet and Alex, around the tv or playing a game with them on game night. Once you go to bed, he may read for a little while, but apart from that, nothing too much happens. It may seem boring to some, but David is honestly really happy with this part of his life.

O - Open (When do they open up about themselves?)

Almost never. He is not an open person. However, there is one way you can get him to open up, if only for a few minutes. It usually only works in the early hours of the morning though, and you have to hold him incredibly close, and almost coax him to speak to you.

P - Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Inwardly he can be very easily angered, but, as mentioned many times, he’s closed off- good at masking his emotions. Outwardly, it takes a lot of annoyance or stress to make him snap. If he does snap though, he snaps hard. Just look at how he was with both Alex and Juliet at different points after Hugo’s passing- mental state aside.

Q - Quizzes (How much do they remember about you?)

He remembers almost everything you tell him. You mention something off-handedly one night when you think he’s too focused on a book, and he’ll bring up or purchase something related to that thing a few weeks later.

R - Remember (Favorite memory with you?)

He read one of his favourite books to you once, after you had pestered him about it for a solid three days. Though you found it boring and eventually fell asleep on his shoulder, he admired that you cared enough to bother him about it.

S - Security (How protective are they?)

Super damn protective, even if you don’t realise it. He keeps a watchful eye on you almost every second of the day- through various methods, some darker than others. You’ve not brought it up with him yet, though.

T - Try (How much effort do they put in?)

A fair amount- even though you yourself do not reap the benefits of said effort, nor are you aware that half of it is going on. But he does indeed try, Mr Stephens is not entirely heartless.

U - Ugly (What are their bad habits?)

David has a nasty tendency to jump to conclusions sometimes. He doesn’t always mean to- and it has caused a couple of arguments- but it has happened on more than one occasion. Him and Juliet are trying to work on that to help your relationship, and cause less fights.

V - Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

No, I wouldn’t say that he’s a particularly vain man. He does dress well and keep himself groomed for the most part, though I would put that down more to profession and habit, rather than vanity.

W - Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He would definitely feel something amiss without you around. Like his reaction to most negative things, he’d be eerily silent, retreating only to his thoughts and letting them slowly start to consume him in the process.

X - Xtra (Random HC)

He likes to watch you sleep when he can’t find rest. Sometimes it helps him to sleep, he finds it very soothing to see you in such a peaceful, almost perfect state of bliss, completely worry free and shielded from the horrors and stresses of day to day life.

Y - Yuck (Things they don’t like either in general or a partner?)

Someone who pries too much into his life or his mind. He’ll open up to you or someone else on his own, constant badgering about certain topics makes him clam up.

Z - Zzz (Sleep habits)

David does not have a good sleeping pattern, and is often very restless. Though he goes to bed and switches out the light at the same time every night- like clockwork- it doesn’t seem to help. He’ll lie on his back for hours, his mind running rampant and torturing him with intrusive, and sometimes very concerning thoughts.

#shallow grave #shallow grave x reader #david stephens #christopher eccleston #david stephens x reader #christopher eccleston x reader

16 notes · View notes

winterknight1087 · 4 years ago

Text

The Trash Pizza Wasn’t Worth It

Summary: After accidentally traumatizing Patton in a failed prank for his twin, Remus ends up getting into a fight and ends up in the hospital.

Word Count: 2912

Warnings: sympathetic Remus, sympathetic Deceit/Janus, fight mention, hospital, mention of medication, food mentions, injury mentions, tarantula, Remus has some intrusive thoughts, murder mentions due to those intrusive thoughts, cursing

Pairings: platonic sides, brotherly creativitwins

AO3 Link My Writing

@franthehorsegir I am so sorry this is a little bit late! 2020 ended the same way it went. But still, I hope you enjoy your @sanderssidesgiftxchange present! It was interesting coming up with ways to try and incorporate all your gift wishes and I hope I did it justice! Happy Holidays!

Pranks were a very common phenomenon around the house. The two main culprits were almost always the twins, each trying to one up the other’s last prank. Everyone has accidentally fallen victim to the twins’ pranks at least once a week. A bucket of soap water dumped on Virgil’s head. The Crofters being traded out for what Logan swears was bubblegum toothpaste flavored jello. Patton got hit with a full-on cake, though he got to eat the rest so it was mostly OK. One time, the twins teamed up on Janus and they have never felt more fear than watching Janus stare them in the eyes as he drank the coffee mixed with salt instead of sweetener, acting as if that were his normal drink. Safe to say the coffee was never a victim of the pranks again at least.

Occasionally, a twin would go too far though. Once Roman shaved off Remus’s mustache, while Remus was fast asleep on the couch. Remus was livid and refused to go anywhere until it grew back. Remus had once accidentally knocked Roman unconscious with his inflatable mace. The others were terrified that Roman was extremely hurt, but once he woke up, he was fine, thankfully. However, one prank mishap will live on as the ultimate disaster prank…

***

“You are going to sit here and wait for RoRo and then jump at him, okay?” Remus whispered to the giant tarantula, currently housed in an empty Crofters jar.

He set the creature down as he replaced the current jar with the prank one. He made sure that it didn’t look suspicious before setting up the rest of the prank. Remus carefully lined a tripwire directly behind where he expected Roman to be. He hid a camera behind the toaster to record the entire incident. The icing on top was a special sticky slime that Remus set up to dump on Roman once he tripped over the wire.

Remus hid in the pantry, waiting for Roman to come down for his afternoon snack. If it had been Roman, or any of the others, the prank would have been fine. Logan and Virgil would be momentarily surprised but wouldn’t do much more than look startled. Janus would have hunted Remus down and stole his fake deodorants as punishment. But no…

A high-pitched scream shot through the house as the sound of glass shattered on the ground. Remus was rushing out of his hiding spot in time to see Patton trip over the wire, onto the broken glass. His eyes were locked on the tarantula and when it moved barely a hair, Patton was screaming again as he scrambled backwards, not aware of the glass. When the slime fell, that was it for Patton. He let out another scream as he scrambled to his feet, frantically trying to get the ‘spiders’ off of him as he ran out of the kitchen.

Remus could hear rushing footsteps and Patton screaming about the ‘creepy crawly death dealers’ in the kitchen. The chaotic rat knew he was about to get into major trouble, so he started cleaning up the kitchen, particularly going after the tarantula first. Once it was in a box to give to Virgil later, Remus started sweeping up the broken glass, thoughts about how dead he was running through his head.

Honestly, the five minutes it took Janus to come down to scold Remus seemed longer than normal scolding intervals. But Janus appeared, caped PJs and bowler sleep hat revealing the snake had been taking a nap when awoken to screams. And one thing with Janus was that no one was allowed to interrupt his nap time unless it was a true emergency. Remus gulped seeing the furious man storm into the kitchen.

Let’s just say that Janus wasn’t his usual suave, collected self when he is rudely awoken by screams.

“I will give you exactly ten seconds to explain why you terrified Patton with a shower of spiders.”

“It was one tarantula and slime! It was a prank for Roman but apparently Pat went in without me seeing him!”

“You damn idiot. We all agreed that anything spider related would not happen in this house. Patton is petrified of spiders, even Vee’s spider curtains set him off. And yet, with all the power of your mere quarter of a brain cell, you decided that it was an OK risk to bring a spider into this house and not have a contingency plan to keep Patton away from it? Remus, I knew you were stupid, but I didn’t realize you were able to lower my standards even more than they already were. Even if it were to be Roman, how would this have turned out any better? Answer me that, Remus. How?”

Remus hung his head. “I don’t know.’

“Exactly. All of us put up with your random weird ass bullshit everyday because we’re your friends, but there has always been a line between an OK thing and a very not OK thing. Sending someone into a panic attack through their phobia? Extremely not OK. You useless trash rat, what were you even thinking!? Probably nothing as that useless brain of yours has only one thought a month.”

“Pardon me,” Logan’s voice cut Janus off, “but can the two of you move out of the way? Patton requires the first aid kit.”

The two immediately stepped aside, letting Logan access the medicine cabinet. This new information added fuel to Janus’ eyes, and Remus couldn’t help but remember the coffee salt incident and now really wanted his twin here to bear some of the fury. He knew the second that he had realized Patton fell into his prank that he had messed up, bad, but Janus was going to make sure that Remus could never hear the word spider without remembering his fury.

Logan left with the first aid kit, focused on how he was going to get Patton to sit still long enough to get the glass out of his hands and bandage them while the other was still panicking about spiders. Not that he would have really had any sympathy for Remus as he faced Janus’ wrath. They had all agreed that even Halloween decoration spiders were off limits. And Remus went and broke that agreement? His own fault for angry, sleepy Janus.

“Out.”

Remus blinked. “What?”

“Get out. I don’t want you in line of sight right now.”

Remus didn’t even bother grabbing anything as he quickly left the house. It was supposed to be a funny prank on his brother, not a traumatizing experience for one of his best friends. He even passed by his favorite store to terrorize, not in the mood to evade employees to set all the alarms to go off or add random items to people’s carts and wait for them to discover the item.

Go jump in front of oncoming traffic. It’ll save everyone the trouble of having to deal with you.

Remus had already started to step off the curb before violently shaking his head. What did Logan call those? “Intrusive thoughts. They aren’t me. They can’t be me. Those are just unconscious thoughts that come out of nowhere. They do not indicate who I really am.”

But they are your thoughts and you’ve thought of how to murder each of them so that they won’t laugh at you behind your back anymore. You are just a screw up that is a burden on everyone. Your brother had to convince his friends to let you move in with them, and it was probably out of pity or guilt than love.

“Not true.” Remus muttered to himself as he walked aimlessly. “Even for things I wouldn’t otherwise know about, all of them still invite me. They all willingly choose to be in the same room as me, even when I am being more extra than normal. They get upset when I do something stupid. That was something stupid, so they are right to be mad. Not what you’re telling me, you stupid brain.”

Remus didn’t notice his feet carry him to the dumpster behind the nearby Dennys. He was too busy trying to rationalize the thoughts running through his head and weed out Häagen-Dazs Distortions or whatever Logan called them along with his normal intrusive thoughts. Remus barely noticed climbing into the dumpster, but he settled down in the corner before curling up, filled with the rare instance of self-hatred.

He did eventually pull himself out of his thoughts long enough to text his brother’s old friend that he was in their dumpster again and not to panic if someone came to toss trash. It spoke multitudes to the amount of times Remus did this that the only response that he received was a single letter k.

What if you just poison Janus? Then you won’t have to suffer his wrath once you go home.

“Shut up, brain.”

Poison Janus and stuff Patton into a coffin!

“NO!”

Pretty sure if you sneak up on Virgil, you could get him to choke to death as well. Just need to figure out a way to get rid of Logan and Roman and you’ll be free.

“Stooooop” Remus covered his ears, as if that would block out

Janus said you were stupider than he thought, so why not show him how intelligent you can be by murdering all your friends and family and getting away with it?!?

Tears were filling Remus’ eyes as he desperately tried to clear his head. He accepted that these weren’t his thoughts, that they were just intrusive thoughts. He tried all the tricks he normally did that helped, but nothing was working. He even tried moving onto something else to distract him like eating left over pizza he found in the trash.

At least, until something opened the dumpster. In popped a beady-eyed creature in search of food. Remus growled at it, looking for a way to distract himself. Instead of being startled, the creature hissed back. The creature had spent the day running from human toddlers who wanted to do things the creature was uncertain of. It had spent the day dodging cars and animal control. It wasn’t about to let this weirdo stop it from enjoying tossed out hamburgers and pancakes. And if the weirdo was going to fight the creature, well, the creature wasn’t going to give up without a fight.

***

Logan tightened his hands around the steering wheel as he waited impatiently for the light to turn. Janus sat next to him in the front seat, fiddling with his phone, hoping that there wouldn’t be a second call with worse news. In the middle of the van sat Patton and Roman. They were trying to distract themselves by planning the fun activities they could do after everything settled down. In the very back of the van sat Virgil, who’s anxiety and nervous tappings of various limbs magnified the worry that was probably spilling from the van.

Janus wondered if he hadn’t been so mad at being woken up by a hurt and terrified Patton due to an accidental misfire of a prank, would they have gotten that call? What had happened anyway? If they were going to get any call about Remus, it should have been from the local grocery store, banning him for the third time this month (though they always welcomed him back in because he was amusing and took on rude and self-centered costumers so that employees didn’t have to).

“He’ll be alright.” Logan stated, cutting through the worry. “It is Remus we are talking about.”

“Save it, Specs.” Roman muttered. “Until we see how bad off he is, nothing you can say will make things better.”

“Did-did they say what happened, Janus?” Patton asked, softly.

“No, all the hospital said was that he was admitted with several injuries and that I was the first listed emergency contact in his phone.”

“Well, I suppose you would be as your name comes first alphabetically.” Logan mused.

“Of course Wine Mom would be all of our emergency contact.” Virgil commented sarcastically.

“Excuse you, but Logan is mine. I wouldn’t trust the rest of you misfits to actually do anything productive if anyone contacted you all.” Janus spat back, glad for the momentary distraction.

“Fair.”

“You got me there.”

“True, but why you gotta call us out like this?”

There was a small chuckle that passed through the van, but almost as if some invisible barrier ripped the sound from the van, the mood soured as they entered the hospital parking lot. It took Logan a few minutes to find a parking spot and that managed to ramp up the tension and apprehension among the group, terrified of what they would find.

“Pat, you sure you can face Remus right now? I think we’d all understand if you decided to just sit outside the door and wait to hear how he is.” Janus asked, softly.

“No, no, I get that it was an accident. We’ve all walked into one of the twins’ pranks by accident. Accidents happen and I also want to see that he’ll be OK.” Patton answered before admitting, “though, I will need everyone else to open the Crofters jar for at least a month in case there is another giant creepy crawly death dealer in one of them…”

So, with that, the group went into the hospital. Janus went and talked to a nurse who directed him to the room Remus was in. Upon hearing the room number, Janus instantly asked if he had asked to be placed there, which made the nurse laugh. So, with that, the group headed up to room 6969.

“POOPY!”

“Sounds like he’s alive at least.” Roman commented.

A nurse came out of the room, shaking her head. She looked over the group before peeking back into the room and telling the occupant that he had company. The group shared a worried look before filing into the room.

Remus sat in a hospital bed with scratches and gaze all over him. His arm was in a sling, his foot in a cast, and a couple sets of stitches were hidden behind gaze or the hospital gown he was wearing. Despite this, Remus was cackling and being his odd self, so the group let out a collective breath, relieved to see he was alright, for the most part.

“How are you feeling, Ree?” Roman asked, moving over to his twin.

“Mhhhh, like cotton candy sprayed with mist.”

“So, that’s what? Like a 3 on the Remus scale?” Virgil asked.

“I would guess a bit higher but also toned done by medication.” Logan answered. “He would not use a nice analogy like that unless he were sort of out of it.”

“What happened, Remus? Did someone try to mug you or something?” Janus asked.

“Yup, and the racoon won both the fight and my trash-pizza.”

The group froze, staring at the chaotic man before Patton finally asked. “You lost a fight to… a racoon?”

“Yuuuuuuuuup.”

“Remus,” Roman sighed. “You are such an idiot. Don’t do something like this again. You scared all of us to death.”

The hurt one instantly froze, his eyes shooting onto Patton, as he remembered the fact he really scared one of his friends. “Oh, shit. Patty, I’m so sorry for what happened earlier! It was an accident! I was trying to get RoRo BroBro, not you.”

Patton moved over and set a comforting hand on Remus’ unhurt arm. “It’s OK, I know it was. You don’t need to beat yourself up over it.”

“Remus, did you seriously lose a tooth to a racoon!?!”

***

The hospital released Remus a bit later, informing him (and more importantly Logan and Janus) about follow ups and care info. The group then dragged Remus to their van before picking up some (not trash) pizza and heading home. Patton tried to join in on pampering Remus, but their friends stopped him and basically forced the happy pappy Patton on the couch next to Remus, reminding him that he was also hurt and on the pampering list. So, instead Patton curled up and cuddled Remus while the other four went around prepping snacks, movies, games, and whatever else they could scrounge up to make sure the chaotic rat and pun-tastic father-figure were entertained.

Soon enough, Remus was surrounded by the group of people he considered his family (brother, what brother? Remus obviously doesn’t have a twin brother named Roman. That’s just his friend Wroammin). They weren’t going to let Remus live down the fact he lost a fight to a racoon, but how could he stop them making fun of it? It was hilarious and even more, they were checking on him every hour to make sure he was alright and comfortable, so they deserved a good laugh.

And if Remus’ brain tried to throw a couple intrusive thoughts at him, they didn’t stand a chance against the love surrounding Remus. Those weren’t his thoughts because his thoughts were focused on listening to Roman and Virgil argue about Disney meanings, cuddling Patton and waiting for Logan and Janus to return from the kitchen with drinks for everyone. How could disturbing thoughts harm him when he was feeling loved despite all of his failings?

“Remus, Thomas just texted me saying you were in their dumpster earlier. Did you really lose a fight with a racoon behind the Dennys?”

“Yuuuuuuuuuuuup.”

#Sage writes #sympathetic remus #sympathetic deceit #food mention #injury mention #hospital #tarantula #murder mention #cursing #sandersidesgiftexchange #sandersidesgiftexchange2020 #franthehorsegirl

13 notes · View notes