#brainwashed!reader

[lizamango]

Cruel World 1/? (Brainwashed HYDRA!Reader x Steve Rogers)

summary: A war between SHIELD and HYDRA rages on in the shadows of the world. You live for the kill as a Black Widow until you discover Steve Rogers, the weapon for the opposing side who makes you question the side you’ve been fighting for. (inspired by Underworld, just go with the lore on this fic pls)

warnings: smut later, cussing, canon typical violence

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wc: 4384 (ik my first chaps are always insane)

The war between SHIELD and HYDRA had ended when SHIELD’S prize was defeated by Johann Schmidt, the leader of the faction at the time. The prize was killed in a blaze of fire and ice, hope was lost for SHIELD, causing them to scatter into hiding.

Now, HYDRA puppets the world’s leaders, in charge behind closed doors, everyone in their pockets. The superior faction. Made up of Assets and Widows.

7 Decades have passed since the day SHIELD’s beloved prize was defeated and yet pockets of SHIELD would stubbornly attempt to put up a fight against HYDRA. Weapons have evolved since then, as did technology. However, our purpose remains.

Hunt them down and kill them off. A once tireless crusade, now approaching its end as SHIELD nears extinction. A pity for those like me, a Black Widow, who lived for the hunt.

“Sestra, I have eyes on the entrance,” Oksana announces through the radio. “One guard.”

“One guard? Sloppy,” Yelena remarks.

“Terpeniye,” I order. Patience. “I’m going in. Watch my six.” I jump down from my perch on a tree, my legs feeling the jolt of my landing. Our suits are white to blend into the snowy environment.

“Show off.” I know Yelena is rolling her eyes.

“You’re just jealous,” I tease. I always was stronger, faster and more agile than other Widows. Perhaps that’s why Dreykov favours me.

“We got the same training, suka.”

I smirk and pull out a knife from my sleeve. I approach from the side of the entrance and slit the throat of the guard. I use his keycard to unlock the doors.

“Clear,” I announce into my radio. In no time Oksana and Yelena are at my side. Our orders are simple; kill all SHIELD agents and report any new intel.

The facility is surprisingly large for a faction that has been driven to near extinction but I assume it’s an older facility back from when they had larger numbers…

There are floor plans on the wall next to the elevator. This place isn’t heavily guarded at all. “Yelena, take the ground floor, Oksana clear subfloor one then meet me by the north staircase of subfloor two and we rendezvous by the helipad. Clear?”

“Crystal,” they reply.

We split up, following the orders I gave. There were no guards manning the staircases and besides the entrance, no other doors I approach require a keycard.

I enter a room that looks like an office space. I frown, SHIELD isn’t supposed to be this organised. There are files and maps of supposed HYDRA bases… some wrong assumptions while others were a little two close for comfort. I take pictures of the room and some files they have for intel. One file is particularly thick, stamped with a red Classified and is filled with the name Dr Erskine.

“Hey! Identify yourself!” I hear a yell and look up to see a SHIELD agent in full tac gear and a gun. I throw a widow’s bite at him which stuns him for a few seconds then slide towards him, wrapping my whip around his neck, using it as a garrote. With the snap of his neck I let go and pull him into the room, shutting the door to continue with my mission.

The last room I get to requires a keypad but there’s no time to guess a million combinations so I stab my knife into the side to expose the wiring.

“You are not clear yet?” Oksana teases. I roll my eyes.

“Shut up, I’m working.” I use my knife to strip the rubber casing of the thickest wire and short circuit it with one of my widow’s bites. The door opens to reveal a laboratory. We walk in, on guard. Suspiciously, the lab is empty save for a puddle of water on a gurney and a heart and vitals monitor in the centre.

“What was going on here?” Oksana wonders as she surveils the lab. I find more files, one with wet marks, indicating someone had flipped through the pages with wet hands recently.

Subject woken. Vitals normal. Natural suspended animation.

A photo of a man, a handsome one at that, is stapled to the report. Blonde hair, long lashes and chilled jawline. STEVEN GRANT ROGERS.

I frown.

I pull the photo from the staple and pocket it. I turn to Oksana and hear it before she does. Gunshots. I duck under the gurney and see a flash of black helmets and blonde hair rush toward another exit. I run to follow them, passing by Oksana’s lifeless body. Fuck.

“Yelena, Oksana is down, SHIELD agents headed down south.” I report while following them.

“Oksana?”

“Go through the lab at the end of the corridor and the back door!”

I see that two Agents seem to be protecting the blonde man. I frown and shoot at one of the uniformed agents. As I set eyes on who I assume is a civilian, he enters a submarine with the help of an agent before I shoot that one down too.

I feel Yelena arrive next to me and hear her fire off shots too.

“What the fuck happened?”

I shake my head. “We have to go back to headquarters.”

We run up the stairs to the line of trees where we left our snow mobiles and ride towards our rendezvous point; a helipad atop a now abandoned hospital.

I speak into our radio, “Tac team 12 requesting extraction, one Widow down, medical assistance not necessary, over.”

“Extraction order received, arrival in T minus 16 minutes. Out.” The other line briefly responds.

“What happened to Oksana?” Yelena asks again.

I shake my head. “Shield agents shot at us. I got both of them back but someone else was there. He got away.”

“A civilian?” Yelena raises a brow.

“I don’t think so.” I look through the classified files again. “An asset.”

“SHIELD has no assets.”

“We have to take it up with the council.”

“That means bringing it through Rumlow,” Yelena says.

I sigh. Rumlow. He’s, for lack of a better term, obsessed with me. And not in a good way. I don’t know who to trust. Johann Schmidt is the Hydra high command of the decade and he has claimed for 70 years that he had been the one to take down Steve Rogers. To take down SHIELD’s organisation. How could I possibly bring this conspiracy to the attention of my faction?

The sound of the chopper interrupts my thoughts.

“You could bring it to Melina?”

One of Dreykov’s older Widows and importantly, trusted.

The chopper lands and we enter. It takes us swiftly back to the Red Room.

To no one’s surprise, Rumlow is waiting for us. We walk right passed him.

“What happened? You lost a Widow?” A Widow hasn’t been lost to this war in 7 years. That’s how weak we believe SHIELD to be. Not anymore it seems. Having the prize back may just be the turning point they need to gain an advantage over us.

“Oksana was shot down by SHIELD agents,” Yelena answers.

“What?” Rumlow spits out. “How is that possible?”

“That’s what I’m going to find out,” I say, choosing to avoid telling him the whole story or whatever part of the story I have.

“Where are you going?”

I stop and turn to face him. “I’m going to Melina. We need better weapons if SHIELD is firing at us.”

“You’re not going back out on a hunt tonight.”

“That’s not for you to decide, is it? Your orders don’t extend to the Widows.”

“The succession is in two days, we need everyone of importance to be here, at the stronghold getting ready for the ceremony. Even this mission was a risk, clearly I should have trusted my gut because now a Widow is dead!” He’s lucky the Succession is for Pierce and not Dreykov who would go to the ends of the earth to avenge a fallen Widow. Coward. I almost say it out loud.

Rumlow scoffs at my silence and stops following me.

“Wow, you know how to rile him up,” Yelena comments.

“6 years of his obsession, I know how to handle it by now.”

“Yikes. I would have just killed him.”

I laugh but roll my eyes. “Did you find anything on your sweep?” I ask, realising I didn’t get a debrief from her.

“Just four agents but it didn’t look like they had any sort of planning, sure organisation because that was the most we’ve seen in such a big location but…” Yelena shrugs.

“No lab?”

“Nope.”

I nod. “How are you dealing with Oksana?”

“I’m fine,” she responds in the least convincing tone. “I’m going. There’s that gala tonight.”

“There’s a gala every night,” I scoff, not keeping up with the social calendar. I continue to make my way to Melina’s lab.

“Come in,” she says before I can knock, though the glass doors make it pointless. “What do I owe the pleasure, detka?”

“We have a problem.” I pull out the photo from my pocket.

Melina frowns. “What am I looking at? The newest supermodel? He’s a bit too muscular for fashion, isn’t he?”

“This is serious, Melina.”

“Elaborate, detka.”

“I found files on him at the SHIELD facility we were sent to. I think it’s the prize.”

Melina cackles. “That means nothing. The SHIELD faction were fanatics about their Captain America,” she says in a mocking tone. “Star spangled banner propaganda bullshit. Look at them now, rats just trying to survive a burning ship. What has their Captain America done for them?”

“Could it be possible that he is still be alive? Maybe-Maybe Schmidt missed something.”

“Izmena,” she scolds. Treason.

“I saw them protecting someone. The agents I killed. He got away.”

“The succession is days away. You can wait that long.”

No. Right now, who ever that blonde man is, he’s disoriented and that means careless. He must be the one in the picture, why else would they have his file in a lab if not to do research?

“You cannot confront the council with this. It is a death sentence to question Schmidt, even for you.”

“Dreykov would believe me.” I take the photo and go to my room. I wash off the grime and dirt from my hair and stand under the shower for a while, thinking. Where would this prize go? If I was believed to be dead all these years… home would be my first stop. I get chills just thinking about it. Home. The warmth I used to feel as my parents came home from work, surprising us with food or toys. My sister…

I turn the shower valve and dry off. I opt for a casual black leather suit, not the attire for the gala Rumlow will no doubt be hounding me about. All we know about SHIELD’s prize is that he was from New York.

I leave discretely as the decadence of the gala distracts everyone else. I make my way up to the hanger and get into a quinjet. They won’t miss one…

I’ve flown a jet before, just never alone and outside of a mission. It feels forbidden. I turn off tracking and communications before anyone can sense my disappearance. I land the jet in a clearing outside the city of New York and activate cloaking.

I walk into a library and find the American history section, also known as works of fiction with the lies they spread and infect their people with…

World War II. Captain America.

The text reads.

Captain Steven Grant Rogers grew up in Brooklyn, suffering from numerous health problems for which he was denied from enlisting five times before he was recruited by Dr Abraham Erskine’s Project Rebirth as the only person in the world to receive the Super Soldier Serum.

What made him so special? I think as I flip the pages, looking for a clue.

In 1943, Rogers single-handedly liberated 150 captured troops from a Nazi base in Austria.

A raid on a Nazi transport train led to the capture of Nazi scientist Arnim Zola and the unfortunate death of Howling Commando and best friend of Steve Rogers, James Barnes.

There is a passage on James Barnes and his relationship with the prize along with a photo of the two, dated at 1935. They were outside of a brownstone.

“Fan of Captain America?” a young boy asks.

I smile, “pretty awesome hero, huh?”

“My favourite.”

My smile turns into a smirk. A child. Easy to manipulate. “What do you know about his past? Y’know, before the serum and stuff?”

“Well, he was the best guy ever like the only reason he was picked to have the serum was coz he was such a good guy!” I smile and nod along. “His old apartment, in Brooklyn where that photo was taken was turned into a museum! Like that Anne Frank house in Amsterdam.”

“Oh really? Do ya mind telling me the address? I’d love to visit it.”

“Sure!” Did I mention kids were easy to manipulate?

I took a cab to the address and sure enough the apartment was there with a sign going on about America’s glorified hero. I refrain from rolling my eyes. It wasn’t busy, a passerby would pay it no mind if they were just going about their day. I walk up into the apartment. It isn’t anything too special, two bedrooms, a kitchenette, a couch and bookcase as the living room. There are plaques with fun facts about the items. I walk into the second bedroom, smaller than the first. This must’ve been his. There are comic books and photographs on the desk. The plaques explaining who were in the photos and that the comic books are replicas of what he would have entertained himself with because he was too sick to go outside and play with the neighbours. What a sad life. I think back to the space I had in my family home. A mansion, really. The outdoor playground my parents built for us.

An album of the Captain’s drawings is on the bedside table. I flip through it and there are portraits of everything, skyscrapers, people, a park with a bridge in it. Brooklyn Bridge. Next stop.

I spot him immediately. He seems to have acquired some new clothes as the Captain sports a brown worn leather jacket, a tight black shirt and loose fit jeans and boots. He’s sitting on the bench overlooking the bridge and park from the exact angle the sketch seemed to be from.

“You were at that base in Russia,” he says as I sit beside him.

“You weren’t supposed to be there.”

“You killed those agents.”

“They were my orders,” I state.

“Are you here to kill me?” he asks calmly.

“I’m not. I need you to come with me.”

“Oh now you’re asking nicely?”

“You don’t know this new world, I do.”

“I’m supposed to trust you?” he raises a brow.

“Do you see anyone else trying to help you, Captain?”

He chuckles. He’s too… confident. It makes me uneasy and I don’t get uneasy.

“Fine. But you should know, if it comes to a fight… you’ll lose.”

It’s my turn to chuckle. “A threat? Hardly golden boy material. Is this what the American dream entails?”

“There’s something I wanna grab from my apartment first.”

I look at him sharply.

“Just a couple photographs. Memories. I didn’t get a chance to stop by yet. It was full of people.”

“If you try anything…”

He doesn’t. He’s an honest enough man, I think as I watch him look through the photographs on his desk. What must it be like to visit his home after being away for so long? Having strangers pick through and dissect every little thing they find… Something comes into my peripheral vision and I duck as the bullet hits the wall behind me. That’s why you don’t stand in front of open doorways, tupitsa. I throw a widow’s bite at the assailant’s neck and then go down. Another charges towards me but I kick the desk chair towards him and as he topples over I knee him in the face.

“We have to go.” I grab his hand and lead him through the stairs but there are agents waiting for us. I jump up on the railing and kick one agent in the face then jump down to the flight below wrap my legs around another agent’s throat until they passed out. I look up to see the Captain fighting off another two agents. We make our way down, removing anyone from our paths. But as we do this I can’t help but wonder how SHIELD has enough troops for an attack like this?

We get to the alley but there are still agents of SHIELD in our way. One takes out a knife and attempts to slash at the Captain. I throw a widow’s bite at him.

I don’t feel it until the Captain reacts, picking up a trash can lid and throwing it at the shooter. I look down and see my suit darken with the wetness of blood. Fuck.

“Come on!” the Captain puts his arms around me as I press down on the shot to my side, the bullet went straight through. “Keep pressure on it.”

He walks me toward a black car, SHIELD’s. Putting me into the passenger’s seat he rushed to the driver’s side and hit wires the car to start.

“Where did Captain America learn to steal a car?”

“Shut up, we’ve got to take you to the hospital!”

“No. No hospitals. I don’t need-“

“Don’t need?! You’ve been shot!” he shouts frantically.

“I’ll be fine, just t-take me to the safe house.”

“Listen ma’am, you need medical att-“

I take out my hand gun and point it right at him. “Safe. House.”

I give him the address and he reluctantly agrees.

I’ve never actually been shot before… stabbed? Yes. An arrow? Yes. Throwing stars? Definitely.

But never a bullet. I guess I’m usually better at dodging them. Or I usually don’t go out of my way to look out for someone other than myself during battle.

“Captain?”

“Yes?” he answers quickly. Worriedly.

“Never call me ma’am again.”

His chuckling is the last thing I hear as I pass out.

***

Embarrassment is what I would feel if I was conscious enough to. Passing out? The other Widows would never let me hear the end of it.

“You’re awake,” the Captain says and I hear a smile behind his words. “We’re at your safe house… doesn’t look that safe to me.”

“It’s not exactly a safe house. It’s an old interrogation and research facility.”

He frowns. “How’s your wound? I cleaned and dressed it.” I notice that he changes the subject.

“How long has it been?”

“About 14 hours.”

“And you didn’t run out on me?” I ask, in shock.

“How could I when you’re hurt?” he asks back sincerely. This man. He’s supposed to be the enemy.

I straighten myself up and he rushes to my side.

“You’re not supposed to be moving.”

“I feel fine, trust me.”

“You said that then you passed out,” he scolds.

I roll my eyes. “Actually I told you not to call me ma’am before I passed out.” I sit up and he puts a hand on my back which sends a jolt through my spine. I ignore it and lift up my shirt to look at the bandage. “I don’t… I don’t feel anything,” I say slowly, trying to make sense of things.

“What do you mean?”

“When I got shot I was in pain but now it’s like…” I slowly unwrapped the bandage.

“That’s- that’s impossible, I saw it myself, I cleaned and wrapped it up myself. You had a hole in you. Straight through.”

“I don’t understand. I’ve never- I mean I heal fast but not like this.”

“So that’s not the reason you wanted to come here instead of a hospital?” I shake my head. “Have you ever been shot before? Major traumatic injuries?”

“No, I mean I’ve been stabbed and had an arrow hit me before but that still took a couple days.”

His brows furrow. “Now your healing… is like mine.”

I shake my head in disbelief. “Don’t be ridiculous.” I unravel the rest of the bandage from me and put it in the sink, lighting it on fire to get rid of any trace. “No one can know of this, okay?”

“So you’re just gonna deny that you’ve got the serum too?” he challenges.

“Captain, you don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never had the serum and I’m not some jacked up, glorified super soldier, understand?”

“Fine,” he relents. “And my name’s Steve by the way.”

I scoff. “Don’t get too familiar.”

He gives me a pointed look and I give him my name.

“Nice to meet you.”

“You’re too polite, you know that?”

Steve chuckles. “So, what are you planning on doing with me?”

I sigh. “I have to take you back… The people who had you, SHIELD… they want you for your abilities. My people, they can keep you safe.”

“And who are your people?” he challenges. It seems he doesn’t even know what SHIELD is, I realise. Odd because our history states that he was SHIELD’s weapon.

“I’m from the Red Room. We call ourselves Black Widows... We’re tasked with taking SHIELD down. Every last one of them.” I say with such malice I can tell he’s taken aback.

“Why do you hate them?”

“It’s a war, Steve. You would know about those, wouldn’t you?”

“I’ve had my fair share… But you’re avoiding my question. The way you said that… it was more than just a soldier following orders.”

I take him in. His face, his posture. His eyes. The most sincere eyes I’ve ever looked into. Eyes that make you feel safe because they’re on you. I see his jaw clench.

“Fine,” he goes to turn away.

“I had a nightmare that night.” He slowly turns back once I find my voice. “I went to go into my parents’ bedroom but they weren’t there. The bed was unmade, as if they’d gotten out in a hurry. I went to find my sister, she was older so she got the bigger room down stairs. I remember the thunder, it was so cold. The door was wide open, there was paper everywhere. Then I noticed all the blood.”

Steve whispers my name.

“I felt someone wrap their arms around me. At first I thought it was my father. But it was too late for that. The war had spilled into our home, they wanted something my father had but they couldn’t take it. So SHIELD decided that no one could have it. He killed the agents that they had been tracking and saved me.”

“Who did?”

“Dreykov. He founded the Black Widow program. That night, he made me what I am now. He gave me the strength to hunt down SHIELD and avenge my family.”

“He didn’t give you a serum?”

I shake my head. “He trained me. Taught me everything I know. Combat training, tactical knowledge. As he did all Widows.”

“But he treated you differently?” Smart.

I nod. “Like a daughter.”

I can tell he has more questions but he lets the silence hang as I shared the deepest part of myself with him. Essentially a stranger. No other Widows know my story. Most of them didn’t come from such tragedy. Many were given up by families without the means to raise them, others simply abandoned. They don’t know the love that they’ve missed out on. The Red Room is the only home they know.

“I um, I went out to get some food for us while you were passed out.” He’s really good at changing the subject, whether it’s for my comfort or his.

I smile softly. “What did you get?”

“Fruits - strawberries, apples. Stuff to make sandwiches from. I actually-“ he opens up the fridge. “I actually made you one already.”

I raise my brows in surprise. “Wow.”

“Yeah, wow. You should be grateful.” He pulls out a ham, lettuce and tomato sandwich.

“Oh, believe me I am.”

I sit at the counter and start to eat. I didn’t realise how hungry I was until now.

“Iced tea,” he rolls the bottle towards me. “Tried it. Tastes amazing. Think everything tastes good now… we used to boil everything.”

I scrunch my nose and he laughs.

For a moment it feels like there’s no mission, no responsibilities, no problems. Just this. Having lunch at 4am with a handsome, charming man.

“I saw the photos… read your history books. You had a best friend?”

Steve nods. “Bucky. He was all I had. He was my brother. We grew up together, both really hated bullies so we got along. I never had anyone believe in me like he did. He’s saved my life more times that he knows.” He looks solemnly at his hands which are restless. “We were on a mission on the alps and he saved me at the cost of his own life.”

“There’s nothing you could have done for him. You should know that.” I know the look on his face; the look of guilt and regret. The thoughts of I should’ve done more.

He nods though I know it’s still on his mind.

“You’d think after 70 years I’d be over it.”

“Well, it was only a couple of days for you. Technically.”

He smirks in amusement. “Technically.”

“Steve. We should get going…”

“Yeah, gotta follow through your mission, don’t ya?”

We leave the safe house and get into the car Steve stole.

“I have a quinjet in a clearing outside of New York. We can take it and get back to the Red Room.”

I start the engine and I can see the gears turning behind his eyes.

“Who started the war?”

“It’s a war for power so SHIELD did. They take everything. So we stop them. That’s all we know. Digging into the past is forbidden.”

“What will you do when we get to the Red Room?”

“I don’t trust the current powers in charge… Dreykov will know what to do.”

🖤🖤🖤

Was this too fast pace, pls lmk!!

part 2

[squeakyducky]

I hate replaced!au so much(they break my heart 💔💔) that I want to see a prompt where that new one that was supposed to 'replace' MC, fails so miserably while trying to take their place. Think about it, imagine it. Wouldn't it be funny? If anything like this happens in canon, it's gonna go like this I am sure.

R/n : *coquettishly trip on air in front of Lucifer*

Lucifer : *raises a brow and continues his walk, ignoring them*

I actually want to see a fic like this. If this kind of fic already exists, kindly please tag me 🙏🙏 if there isn't then, writers pls kindly take this idea of mine and do your magic 🤭 don't forget to tag me tho— I wanna read it.

[lazy4honey]

Butterfly

Contains: a technically biologically female butterfly mothman-type monster, female reader, dub-con, fingering, ovipositor in v, belly bulge, cervix stimulation, pain-numbing aphrodisiac, brainwashing?, breeding with eggs, NSFW & MDNI

Recently, you’ve been having strange dreams. In these dreams, you see a pair of large butterfly wings whose colors and patterns obscure the figure they are attached to. Their psychedelic glow draws all your attention, making you admire them every time you see them.

With each dream, this butterfly person has come closer. After a few times, you can vaguely make out their shimmering eyes, just as enchanting as their wings, and you can plainly see their curiosity in them.

And this night, you see something additional.

Something… addictive.

The butterfly person has once again appeared in your dream. They are so close you can reach out and touch their wings, gently stroking the fragile yet strong surface in adoration.

The butterfly person seems to like this, staring at you with eyes full of desire.

They grab your hands and press you onto your bed. Then they gently nibble on your neck, rub their fuzzy body against yours, and let one hand wander down your body to your crotch, pushing your panties aside to feel your pussy.

You hum quietly, baring your neck and hugging them as you enjoy their tingling caress.

They pinch your clit and rub it back and forth, only stopping once they have elicited enough sweet moans from you and move on to your vaginal lips to pull and spread them. The soft fingers are soon coated in your fluid, easily slipping into your pussy and stirring your insides with their slow, exploratory thrusts.

You squirm beneath them and your shirt rides up from your clumsy attempt at shoving their fingers deeper inside, revealing your breasts.

The butterfly person keeps stimulating your vagina as they let off your neck. You can feel them raise themself slightly to stare at your nipples, then lower their head to sniff and lick.

But compared to your wet pussy, your dry nipples sadly seem to hold no appeal to them.

They resume nibbling on your neck, this time the other side, and you hug them tight to pull them closer, allowing your nipples to brush against their fuzzy chest every now and then. The slight, ticklish feeling mixes well with the heat pooling in your abdomen.

The butterfly person doesn’t care about your little moves. They stroke your inner walls, crooking their fingers and dragging them along the soft tissue until they suddenly find a rough patch amidst the gummy softness. You yelp as they poke at it, unsure whether you like this strange pressure or not.

The butterfly person however appears to find your reaction awfully interesting.

They prod the rough patch a few times and lightly scratch at it, but quickly move on again.

The fingers are pulled out, drawing a string of clear, sticky fluid. The butterfly person looks at their fingers and first sniffs, then licks them, and finally sucks them clean, as if the fluid were some kind of delicious snack.

Their fascinating wings sway as they reposition themself above you. You feel an erect, hot, phallic object slide between the folds of your wet pussy, moving back and forth between your ass cheeks and over your stomach, as if meticulously coating it in your fluids. It drags against your clit every now and then, causing your empty vagina to twitch with the desire to be filled.

Finally, they seem to be ready.

The butterfly person draws back a little, and the tapered tip of their girthy phallus slowly sinks into you, perfectly filling you up. By the time you feel their crotch press against your vulva, you can also feel the phallus’ tip tickling your cervix.

You gasp when they start to move. They pull out and then push back at an agonizingly slow tempo, making you clutch at their fuzzy back. Your pussy clenches around their length, causing the phallus to throb and coaxing a rumbly groan out of the butterfly person’s throat.

And then they suddenly speed up. Their wings sway as they plunge into you, almost desperate to cram their long, thick phallus inside your pussy and turn you into a moaning mess filled to the brim with their cum.

With each thrust, you feel their body hit your clitoris, and their tips push against your cervix, the pleasure eliciting one moan after another and making you unable to close your mouth. The incessant pounding, almost as steady as a machine, creates a bulge in your belly every time they fill you to the hilt. It makes you a little nauseous, but more than that, you feel your vagina pulse with pleasure.

After an unknown amount of time, the butterfly person’s wings tremble and their phallus grows even harder, throbbing as their hot cum spurts against your cervix and pumps you full until it even spills out of your vagina. The sensation induces you to come as well, your pussy fluttering as you cry out in bliss.

By the time you return from the high of your climax to the present, your cheeks are wet with tears and your crotch wet and sticky with the cum that gushed out of you once the butterfly person pulled their phallus out.

But you’re still aroused.

In fact, you might be even more aroused now than you were before.

Your pussy feels terribly empty, contracting around nothing and producing quiet squelching sounds.

Thankfully, the butterfly person understands your plight. You once again see their fascinating wings unfold above you as they directly slam their hips down on you, their phallus wonderfully ramming into your cervix with every thrust. What made you uncomfortable before is now sublime pleasure, even making you regret that them cramming their entire phallus into you doesn’t make your belly bulge more obviously.

Then, amidst the enthralling rapture, you feel a very thin thing penetrate your soft cervix. It should have filled you with dread and pain, yet now, in the middle of that unprecedented, bone-deep yearning to be bred by the butterfly person, you are elated to feel the thing slowly expand the opening in your cervix as they continue fucking into you.

Gradually, your cervix opens enough to take in the tip of their phallus that somehow seems to have gotten even longer. With it, their warm cum is worked into your womb and coats its walls, as if painting you with their scent. Wherever it touches, it ignites desire, close to inducing another orgasm, yet still missing something.

Finally, with one last, deep slam that makes your entire body tense, you feel their phallus throb again.

But this time, it’s different.

The base of the butterfly person’s girthy phallus swells like a knot, first pressing against your vulva and then entering you as their wings flitter rapidly. Guided by the phallus’ rhythmic throbs, the “knot” wanders through their length, stretching you wonderfully as it makes its way to your cervix and falls into your womb after a bit of nudging and pushing. This is soon followed by the second and third “knot”, the speed of their release steadily increasing until three eggs at once are being shoved through your pussy into your womb and you can’t stop coming.

They fill you up so nicely, cramming your womb with their seed and stretching your belly with their numbers.

You are so caught up in your stretched out orgasm that you barely notice the butterfly person’s slowly pulling out. Their psychedelic wings oscillate as they walk away and disappear from your view.

But you are not sad to see them leave.

After all, your belly is still stuffed with their eggs, and once the caterpillars hatch, they will bestow you with a new round of exhilarating pleasure.

[kingkat12]

chasing sleep (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, piv sex, morning sex, attempting-to-stay-quiet sex, Roman loves tits (oops), reader on top, dub-con elements, needle-gate is back lol, dark!Roman returns, fluff, angst, and reader is fucking brainwashed cause girl stand up for yourself wdym

summary: everything seems to be going perfect for you-- you've got the guy, after all. however, you're still haunted by the life you gave away to be with him, and specifically, the girl you left behind. will Roman ever fully trust that you won't leave him?

word count: 11,308 (merry christmas tihi)

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°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･seven minutes in heaven masterlist

a/n: celebrating 700 followers AND christmas with this monster of a chapter!! I love all of you, thank you once again for your amazing support, I LOVE YOU!! this fanfic is nearing the end now, so... hold on tight for what's about to come;) ENJOY, MWAH<3

"You didn't say goodbye, and now a part of me believes that means you're coming back,"  

Over and over again, those words echoed in my ears. I had read it in a passage somewhere, probably in the new romance novel I had picked up a few days ago, and now it truly haunted me. Latched onto my guilt, my love, my very being-- I wasn't sure whether I was capable of letting it all go, despite how happy Roman made me. 

Was that maybe why I ended up right here, right now?

"Do you think it could work again?" Letha echoed, turning to me. Her legs were dangling off my roof as we sat by the edge. A soft breeze moved her long, blonde hair away from her shoulders, and just like that, I was reminded of how truly beautiful she was. It must be a genetic thing for all the Godfreys to be breathtaking. However, the look in Letha's green eyes told me something was wrong, but I couldn't put my finger on it. It was almost as though I was looking back at her with a grey-ish filter, like my vision was making it seem like we were sitting in a cloud of fog. None of this looked real. 

"What could?" I asked, turning to check my surroundings-- yeah, this was definitely my roof. Why were we here?

"Us," Letha's gaze awaited me as I faced her again, and it was heartbreakingly sad. "You and I. Our friendship."

It felt like I had dipped the tips of my fingers in cold water. "Letha... Come on," I reached for her hand, placing mine above hers with a sigh; "This ended a long time ago. I don't think we can salvage this--"

"But what if we could?" Letha's voice was so painfully sweet, so insistent. "Do you think it could work again?"

"What could?"

"Us," she breathed, turning her hand to intertwine our fingers with an unusually hard grip. It didn't feel so sweet anymore. "You and I. Our friendship."

The red lights in my mind went off like police sirens-- something was off. With my next glance at her hair, it was no longer that same warm shade of blonde. Now, I could argue it was actively turning white before my eyes. 

This wasn't real. "Letha?"

"Yes?"

"... Am I dreaming?"

Letha's eyes softened as the green in them dulled down, bordering a bleak color of grey. "Yes," she said. "I'm looping it until you're honest."

"What do you mean?--"

"You'll wake up when you tell me the truth. If you want to help your subconscious let go of the guilt, you should do it,"

My heart was actively breaking. Looking into Letha's blank eyes, I realized it reminded me of the look she had on her face when I first told her about Roman and me. "Ask, then,"

I could see her emotions clutching her soul like an unforgiving fist despite this only being a dream. My head didn't have any problems conjuring the image of her as a kicked, wounded puppy. She spoke; "Do you think it could work again?"

I indulged with a soft sigh; "What could, Letha?"

"Us," she said, allowing tears to well in her eyes. "You and I. Our friendship."

I felt it truly, brutally, that I didn't know what to say. I didn't know if it would break me to be honest. "I can't leave Roman for you," I breathed. "I won't. So I doubt you and I could be friends again as long as I'm still with him."

Letha nodded, turning away to look up at the full moon above us. The hand she had in mine was starting to turn cold. "Do you think it could work again?"

Oh, she was asking again-- was my answer maybe not the truth? Not the right answer? Did my sleeping subconscious know? "What could?" I echoed, growing tired of the loop we were caught in.

"Us," Letha closed her eyes as her chest raised and fell with her shallow breaths. "You and I. Our friendship."

I decided to give it less thought-- that was the key, sometimes. Roman had taught me that. Could it? Could it truly? "Honestly?"

"Honestly,"

It didn't take long before I realized tears were threatening to spill from my eyes too. I had missed the smell of Letha's sweet perfume. It smelled like home and a comforting hug hello. "Yeah. I think it could work," It was weird to hear me say it out loud; "I was always in love with Roman, but you... You taught me how to love in the first place. If we could both forgive each other, I think we'd have a chance. Yet... I don't think I ever can. Fully."

Letha didn't open her eyes, barely moved an inch. She opted for a short, melancholic nod as her lower lip gave in to a tremble. "I'm afraid I'll miss you forever," she whispered, mostly to herself. 

And suddenly, I couldn't feel the weight of her hand in mine. My gaze darted down to what was previously our union, only to find that she wasn't there anymore. I looked up to find a slow line of evaporating smoke, similar to a trail coming from Roman's cinnamon cigarettes. 

With my next heave of air accompanied by a lonely tear rolling down my cheek, I allowed my hand to reach out to touch the fog. It was thick, and it prickled the tips of my fingers to the likes of a cactus-- my sorrow clouded my instincts, and I didn't retract my hand. I hadn't allowed myself to feel any of this, after all. I had been so wrapped up in Roman, so wrapped up in the new feelings that washed over my body, that I had buried all the old ones. 

However, Letha kept her promise-- I was released.

Released from the loop, but with one foot remaining in the quicksand of guilt.

And as I awoke, it felt like I had been thrown into a cold pond. With a quick breath, I arched off the bed, gasping; "Roman!"  

Frantic beyond words, I heaved for air, blinking rapidly to wake myself up. The morning sun shone through Roman's curtains with soft rays, and I was hit with the smell of a burnt candle. Still hyperventilating, I put a hand on my chest as I tried to turn around, but to no avail.

Why couldn't I move? Was I maybe still stuck in the dream? 

Oh, wait-- It was at this moment that I realized I had a heavy arm around me, keeping me still with my back pressed up against human warmth. 

I let out a shaky breath, a relieved smile spreading across my lips-- Roman. 

My panic gradually subsided, washing away with calm waves as I turned my head to look at him. The sun did him good. Roman's hair was a very specific shade of brown, but in the sun, it had twinges of orange and golden hues. If I were to ever bring it up to him, I know he'd protest and say he was nowhere near ginger. He wasn't, and I was aware of that; as usual, he wouldn't get the point.

After some careful maneuvering, I managed to turn in Roman's heavy embrace, facing him. His plush lips were gently parted, and his long, brown lashes weighed over his eyes-- he also had a rather hefty case of bedhead which I couldn't help but find beyond endearing. Up close like this, completely still, I could see the nearly invisible freckles painting the apples of his cheeks, study the curve of his upper lip, and the scar-like indent on his right cheek. I dared to trace my thumb over it, feeling the softness of Roman's skin against the pad of my finger-- this was beauty unmatched.

He was so beautiful. 

And he was mine.

With the gentlest of pressures, I leaned forward, barely brushing my lips across Roman's. I didn't dare to fully kiss him. I wouldn't dare to wake him up. If only we could lay like this forever, undisturbed and alone.

Forever.

Memories of last night swarmed my brain, pushing out all the memories of Letha's sad, green eyes. I smiled as I realized the ache between my legs hadn't subsided-- the sting remained. It had actually happened. I hadn't made it all up. And I would've stayed engulfed in my cloud of complete and utter awe if Roman hadn't nearly scared the living crap out of me with the following.

His voice was raw with sleep as his eyes remained closed; "It's rude to stare,"

I practically arched right off the bed again. Had Roman not had his arms around me in a deadweight hold, I was sure I'd have flown right down to the floor. "Christ!" I hissed, shocked. How had he known? "Sorry... Did I wake you?"

Roman seemed too sleepy to grant me a proper answer, and he settled for a short grunt; "Sleep," 

"It's already morning!--"

"Don't care. Sleep," With his next breath, he pulled me even closer, until the tips of our noses were touching.

I was almost glad Roman's eyes were closed. At least he didn't see the hefty blush creeping up my cheeks. It dawned on me that he maybe had a point-- we had never had the pleasure of having nowhere to be, with no one to wake us up, or school to go to. 

There was one thing I wanted to say, but I was scared he'd get upset at my use of words-- no, fuck it; "You're so pretty," I whispered, reaching up to brush my fingers over the tips of his long, long lashes. "You can't expect me not to stare when you look like this."

Roman's brows drew together, yet he allowed me to do as I pleased in his sleepy state. "I'm not pretty,"

Knew it. "Yeah, you are,"

"Just go to sleep,"

"You're unbelievably pretty,"

"... Please just sleep,"

I was aware that I was annoying him, but something about the way his voice got all harsh in the morning made me want to hear him more. Roman's breath fanned over the skin at the tip of my nose with the gentlest breeze as I sighed against his lips; God, how I loved him. "I don't want to sleep... but I can lay here with you, if you want,"

Roman hummed, the dark rumble in his chest nearly vibrating the bed in the process. "Just don't go anywhere,"

"I won't,"

"Ever,"

"I won't,"

With Roman's next breath, I knew he finally believed me-- finally. It hit him for the first time last night that I wasn't lying when I said I wasn't going anywhere, and it hit him again now. Forever was a dead serious plan of mine, and I was intent on making him understand that no matter what. "You're prettier," he eventually said, nudging my nose with his. "You're like the first pleasant sip of water after you've recovered from a sore throat."

"... Specific,"

Roman let out a short, annoyed groan; "Sleep,"

I didn't want to sleep. I didn't want to possibly face Letha again. With my palms against Roman's soft cheeks, I placed a loving kiss against his parted lips, feeling him sigh into me. "Good morning, Rome,"

He smiled, fulfilled, as though he couldn't hold it back anymore; "Good morning, baby,"

"Did you at least sleep well?--"

"Sleep!"

"... But I really don't want to,"

With another sigh, Roman stirred, pulling me closer to press a lazy kiss to my jaw. "Either you go back to sleep, or we fuck. You gotta give me something to work with, here,"

I stilled. "That's... not a bad idea,"

Roman's classic smirk illuminated my morning. "Turn around, then,"

"Huh?--"

"Trust me,"

Sometimes, when I was lonely, before everything with Roman, I used to kiss the skin between my knuckles and imagine someone else was kissing me. The small sounds, and the tingling sensation pooling in my stomach, would distract me from the unbearable feeling of loneliness. The reality of it.

Which is why, when Roman brought my hand to his mouth, pressing his lips to my knuckles before turning me around, I knew I wasn't alone.

Actually, it wasn't just that that showed me I wasn't-- the repeated strokes of Roman's cock filling me was certainly reminder enough.

It was that sort of lazy morning sex I had only read about in those odd novels my mom would hide around the house, or heard about from my friends which I no longer had. This was a different type of sex from yesterday's, which had been so highly connected and emotional-- and this was not to say that this right now wasn't both connected and emotional, but it was... comforting. Like we were taking joy in being able to do just this. To enjoy one another in a sleepy, slow form.

Roman's grip around my throat wasn't hard or choking-- it was more of a hold to keep me in place as he let out a breathy grunt against my shoulder, sinking into me with slow, lazy strokes from behind. "We should do this more often," Roman murmured against my ear, listening to my small whimpers. "Isn't this fun?"

I could hear his stupidly pretty smile. Fucking Romy Schneider. "What, sex?" Obviously?

Roman's deep laugh against my ear nearly had me shuddering; "In the morning," he purred.

"That's gonna be-- hard," My last words were cut off by the hitch of my breath. This felt too good. "Parents and-- and all." It was true, though. How were we supposed to do this with our parents in the house? I doubted Roman's mom was out on business trips all the time, anyway.

With a small huff, I was pulled even tighter to his chest, almost as a reprimand-- I had no idea why it made my cheeks burn. "You'll learn to be quiet," Roman breathed, kissing up the shell of my ear. "Right?"

"I--"

"You'll be a good little girl for me and be quiet, hm?"

And just as I was about to protest, to remind him it was probably a little rude to have sex with other people in the house (I had no idea actually, was there no etiquette to it?), the hand Roman had around my waist slid between my legs, coaxing them further apart. All my thoughts of having a proper conversation went out the window the second he pressed two fingers to my clit, circling it as his kisses moved to the skin between my ear and my jaw.

It was impossible not to give in to the feeling; Roman was intoxicating. I whimpered with the next brush of his cock against my sweet spot, the different sensations dulling my brain with every thrust-- "Yeah,"

Roman let out a hum of approval; "Just for me?"

"Only-- Only you,"

I could practically feel him melt against me. "That's my girl,"

It was an oddity how much Roman enjoyed the sound of it. How much he enjoyed knowing he finally had a companion in the world. I could feel his cock twitch inside of me with the reminder, with the need to become one.

Because at the end of the day, that's what we were now.

We were one. 

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The next day at school was the easiest day to handle in a while. It didn't matter that people were staring, that my reputation was still tarnished, because I finally felt the stream of love floating my way that I had been craving my whole life.

"You need to start zipping this up," Roman huffed, reaching for the zipper of my jacket. He pulled me closer to the railing he was sitting on by the school entrance, shaking his head. "It's getting cold. Don't be stupid." This was a new level of intimacy. The quiet moments, the small, shared moments of care. He was almost annoyed that I hadn't done it myself, that I hadn't thought to take care of myself, thoughtless little girl. 

I loved it when he got protective like this. Absolutely adored it. It only reminded me of how much I loved him, and consequently, how I couldn't tell him. 

I glanced at Peter, who sat next to Roman, and held back a snicker. I could bet about a hundred dollars that he had never seen his best friend so ridiculously protective before. "She's not twelve," he tried, nudging Roman's shoulder, earning a displeased grunt. 

Oh, of course Peter didn't get it. Roman Godfrey, sweetly zipping up my jacket-- the simplest of all things. Nonetheless, it brought a twinge of scarlet to my cheeks as I spotted a group of cheerleaders passing us on the way to the school entrance; the looks of seething jealousy in their eyes only brought me joy. A part of me wanted the sight of Roman being sweet to leave them with a feeling of pure agony. I wanted them all to suffer. Always. For their heads to be bashed in like Jasmine nearly did to herself into her locker; I wished it upon them. On them all. 

... I needed to snap out of this.

Roman had been right-- it was getting chilly in Hemlock Grove. I shivered when he finished buttoning my buttons, smiling down at him where he sat with Peter, glad none of them could read my thoughts. I wondered whether Roman would be horrified or... comforted by the fact that I was capable of wishing cruelty upon others, just like him.

It didn't matter. None of it did. Especially not now that he was looking up at me with those big, green eyes of his with his hands tucked into his jacket, looking handsome as ever. From this angle, Roman's shoulders were almost broader, and the more I thought about his physique, the more I thought about last night when he was completely undressed.

Completely undressed, on top of me, loving me. 

... Loving me. 

If only he did.

Fuck-- I couldn't think about that right now. The need to draw him in and have him all over again would overcome me soon, and I needed to push it down. It would be quite unfortunate if I started acting like a cat in heat every time I saw him from now on. "I need to get to class," I said, keeping my hands to myself despite how much I wanted to run them through Roman's hair. 

His eyes softened as he scanned me, jacket fully zipped up and all. "What do you have now?" he asked, now toying with the fabric of my pockets. 

"Math, sadly,"

Peter looked like he couldn't wait to escape the tension that ensued the two of us being in such close proximity. "Oh, right," Peter muttered, clicking his tongue against his palate as he sat back on the banister. "Math, second period... With Letha, right?"

The name was enough to make me freeze, and just for a second, it felt like the air got colder. I was sure I might've even flinched. The image of Letha in my dreams, white as though drained of blood, clouded my vision as my heart started to thump painfully. Why was I reacting like this? 

Also, Roman looked like he had been greatly offended by something. With furrowed brows, he sat back and sent Peter a look of what the fuck. "How do you even know that?" he muttered, reaching one arm forward to drag me closer by my waist, his eyes not leaving Peters’ to scan his every minuscule reaction.

I was relieved by Roman's touch-- my fingers dipped into the short hair at the nape of his neck, unsure what was happening. 

On the other hand, Peter seemed to have a hard time recovering from what I could only guess was a slip-up. "I don't know," he said, shrugging as his eyes shied away. "I just remember it, I guess."

Roman snapped; "Why?"

Okay-- I didn't want to be here for this conversation. I couldn't hear more about Letha, not after my cryptic dream. It didn't make matters any better that Peter was right, and that I would see her in my next class. I stopped playing with Roman's hair, placing a short kiss to the top of his head; "I'm heading off," I mumbled, nodding shortly to Peter before excusing myself. 

Having got a quick whiff of Roman's heavy, intoxicating perfume, I closed my eyes and clutched my books tightly to my chest as I walked to class. The sheer smell of him, the softness of his hair, the kindness of his gestures-- it all made my head wander back to last night. The way it felt to have him inside me, how he took care of me, and how good it all felt. Allowing the memories to float back into my mind, I didn't realize I was walking around with a bright smile on my face until I sat down in math class and got a few odd looks from the other students around my seat. I wasn't usually this cheery, I suppose. 

Life felt good. When I thought about Roman, everything felt great. I made myself comfortable behind my desk, feeling my tummy tingle with my reminiscing of last night; I wanted him more than ever. Now that I knew we could be together like that, I wasn't sure how I was supposed to be able to detach from him. And just as I thought I was about to explode into a burst of butterflies, I stuck my hand in my coat to reach for my phone, only to find what felt like crumbled-up paper. 

Confused, I unfolded it;

i miss the look on your face when you cum. miss you miss you miss you. let's find a quiet place somewhere and get very very noisy after school, what do you think about that? do tell. i want to know your every thought, actually. what makes you tick, and so forth. know that i'm probably thinking about you right now. always. 

- your favorite (hopefully)

Oh, Roman and his notes. When had he managed to put it in there? A few minutes ago, when he toying with my pockets? Sneaky. I was dead sure my cheeks had turned a peculiar shade of pink by the time I felt someone put down their bag in the empty seat next to me, and I was too drunk on the euphoria to glance at my partner for today's class. How I loved Roman-- I loved him to the point where the tips of my fingers burned when I thought about him. And knowing he was probably in class now as well, thinking about me too... no, it was almost too much to bear.

However, when something much harder to face suddenly sat down next to me, I would've loved to get sucked right back into my tingling cave of Roman-comfort. 

Letha. 

Letha was here. 

Letha was sitting next to me, gazing back at me with those trademark green Godfrey eyes. 

Fuck. I immediately crumbled up the note, stuffing it down my pocket to hide the content of it from her. Knowing Letha, she'd probably barf at the sight of the first sentence. "What are you doing?" I hissed, glancing around to scour the classroom for empty seats. "There's a free table two rows down--"

"I like sitting here," Letha's face remained free of strong emotion, and she turned away to unpack her supplies. "It's close to the window, and I need the natural sunlight. It helps the headache I get from the lamps in here, don't you remember?"

She said it so matter-of-factly, and for a second, it felt as though I had been teleported back to two months ago. I didn't know how to act around Letha anymore. "Sure," I mumbled. Just my luck. 

As class started, I would glance over at Letha every once in a while. She seemed so peaceful, undisturbed by my presence, and I wasn't sure why that annoyed me to this extent. Was it perhaps the fact that she sought out forgiveness from me when she refused to give me any in return? That she was seeking acceptance about the situation only when it suited her? 

It was odd to look at Letha and see her in colours. After my dream last night, I could only see her in her undead form, dead to me.  

To my dismay, Letha leaned over to my side of the table a little later that class; "Do you have a pencil?" she whispered.

A Godfrey asking to borrow my pencil? It usually led to no good. Still, I handed her one--

"Thank you,"

"No problem,"

This was so weird. It felt too normal, yet it was agony to act that it was. However, the situation only worsened when the teacher asked us to work in pairs and solve an equation on the board. I held my breath, daring to glance at Letha; she was already looking at me. "You have no clue how to solve this stuff, do you?"

I shrugged. She knew me too well. "You've probably already solved it in your head,"

Letha's smile was kind, genuine. "Want me to show you how to do it?"

"Nah," 

"Do you even do your homework anymore?"

I knew her question was coming from a good place. I could feel it. After all, I barely managed to do my homework when Letha and I had regular study sessions at her place. Just thinking about it made me remember the sweet smell of her sheets, which never mixed well with the incense she was always burning for 'good karma'. "Roman has a guy that does them for him, and I write my answers off of his," I mumbled.

I expected the mention of him to put her off-- yet Letha simply nodded, raising her brows in a conniving look. "He's corrupted you,"

"I've let him,"

"I know," Letha's green eyes shimmered with words untold as she echoed; "I know."

It was odd to face her like this. For her to know my feelings for Roman, and not walk off this time. This was the first conversation we'd had in months where we weren't at each other's throats. And suddenly, Letha took the leap I wasn't allowed to take-- she leaned in closer as she dared to whisper the forbidden words; "I miss you,"

Oh no. "Letha--"

"You never said goodbye, and now a part of me believes you're coming back,"

I let out a shaky breath as I moved my chair further away from hers. What she said had been too close to the words in my dream last night. It was chilling. "Of course I never said goodbye," I hissed back, feeling my emotions boil to a simmer. "You didn't let me." There it was, laid out in the open. "You cut me off, Letha." She had. "And you left me for dead!"

Letha held her breath high in her chest as her mouth formed a tight line. It wasn't until she moved her chair closer to mine and gripped the table harder that she allowed herself to breathe; "I left you for dead because you basically fucking stabbed me!" 

"I didn't mean to!"

"And you think I did?" Letha hissed. "You gave me no choice!"

"That's not true! I came clean to you, and the least you could've done was to!--"

"Yeah, well, I'm sorry!" 

We stared at one another in silence. There it was, my apology, served on a silver platter. I had heard it once before, but Roman wasn't here to control the outcome of it this time. Something within the bounds of my soul was relieved of anger and tension, and I couldn't halt the result of it; "I'm sorry too,"

Letha froze for a good second or two. Her lips parted in disbelief as her grip on the table lifted, and she sat back in her chair with a slow nod. It gradually dawned on her what this meant for us. 

"Do you think it could work again?"

I indulged with a soft sigh; "What could, Letha?"

"Us," she said, allowing tears to well in her eyes. "You and I. Our friendship."

It was easier to breathe, all of a sudden. I knew that an apology wasn't enough to mend our wounds, but it was a start. I nodded along with Letha and watched as the corners of her mouth tugged upwards into a smile-- I caught myself mirroring it.

"So..." she tried.

"So..."

"Did you hear that Brooke Bluebell bought a big needle from a pharmacy?" 

I grimaced; "What? No, why?"

"To get her revenge on Roman," Letha held back a laugh, biting down on her lip as she turned to write down the answer to the math equation. "From a few months ago, if you remember the whole ordeal."

"Oh," I breathed. "Needle-gate?"

"Needle-gate,"

Despite how concerning the big needle sounded, it was a funny reminder of the past; "I've gotta tell Roman," 

"Yeah, you better. I think he's blocked me, so I'm out of the picture," Letha sat back in her chair after finishing her work, and she glanced back at me as she tapped the pencil against the paper. "You've gotta tell him about prom too."

"... Prom?"

"Yes, prom," Grabbing her bag, Letha rummaged around for a few seconds until she found a flyer. It was purple, super lavish-- "It's in two weeks, I think. Kinda short notice, but I have a feeling he'd secretly want to go. He's into the classics, so I'd suggest you indulge him."

I felt my cheeks turn red as I kept my eyes on the flyer. Just the thought of me in a dress, Roman in a suit; it made me warm. Uncomfortably warm. "I think he'd rather die, actually," I mumbled, handing it back to Letha. "Are you going?"

"Meh, don't think so," She stuffed the flyer back into her bag and sighed, reaching for her phone. "The guy that I'm into says he doesn't want to go, so I'll stay home."

It hit me that this was the first time I didn't know who Letha had a crush on. Previously, she would tell me all about them. There was a Tyler, there was a Scott, and then there was a third one who had a really peculiar last name. And just as I was about to scour my brain for more names, a particular one popped up on Letha's phone as she turned it on;

Peter: I think it's time to...

That was all I was able to see, as she needed to click on it to read the whole message. My eyes widened as I sat back in my chair, sending Letha an odd look. It was clear by her body language that she hadn't intended for me to see that, and she immediately flipped her phone. 

... Was something going on?

Letha cleared her throat and turned back to me with the same smile, yet it felt disingenuous. "That's a different Peter," she said, a somewhat panicked squeak to her voice. "It's the neighbour. He might be complaining about the amount of cars my dad has parked on our street, cause they don't fit into our garage anymore. It needs to be discussed, apparently. It's time, or whatever."

That seemed like a typical rich-kid problem. I could somewhat buy it. "Is it a Godfrey thing to be crazy about cars?"

"Just you wait until you hear about the cigarettes. Dad's a real chain-smoker,"

"... Don't tell me they're cinnamon-flavoured?"

Letha sighed; "Sadly, yeah. The garage smells like a goddamn gingerbread house,"

The laughter that followed wasn't intentional, and it blended in with the ring of the bell. 

This was nice. To see the smile on Letha's face felt good, like a warm soup when you have a cold. It was a comfort to know that we could finally be normal around each other, despite the fact that we would possibly never be friends again like before, or even forgive one another. I doubted that I ever could, fully. 

However, just as I was about to excuse myself, I spotted a silhouette by the door which made my blood run cold. 

Fuck.

Roman. 

I saw it in his eyes immediately. The confusion, which quickly morphed into something darker, anger-like. My laughter died down in an instant as my body kicked into a fight-or-flight response, suddenly scared out of my mind to be caught laughing with Letha-- she seemed to catch on momentarily, but remained in her seat as she watched me shove all my supplies and books into my backpack, hurrying to get to Roman.

I had forgotten that he wanted to pick me up after class. I had forgotten my promise to not fraternise with the enemy-- fucking stupid. 

Hoping to conceal the slight tremble in my hands, I put one of them on Roman's arm when I caught up to him in the doorway, smiling up at him with an anxious breath stuck in my chest. "Hey, you," I tried, giving the sleeve of his shirt a gentle tug as I always did, a plea for him to bend down and kiss me. It was impossible to reach all the way up to his lips without it, anyway.

But Roman's attention hadn't left Letha. His eyes had narrowed, glaring at her with fury apparent in the way his jaw clenched. Had telepathy been a real thing, I'd have thought they were yelling at each other through their minds. I almost wanted to butt in and say Letha wasn't bothering me, that we were having a normal conversation-- however, I knew that would only make it worse. 

"Come," Roman said with a low growl, unlike anything I had heard from him before. With one last scorned look at Letha, he gripped my wrist and started marching down the hallway; I didn't expect to be yanked from my place the way I was, and I was sure my legs were fully in the air for a microsecond or two; "Roman!--"

"This day just keeps getting worse," he muttered, not waiting for me to find my balance as he continued to drag me down the hallway. 

Roman's grip around my wrist was hard. "Slow down!" I tried, grabbing his arm with my free hand. "It's not what it looks like! It's not-- " Everything about this made me dizzy, and his sudden anger made the familiar feeling of dread pool in my stomach. It only got worse when he pulled me into an empty classroom, slamming the door shut behind us.

I took a few steps away from him, waiting for the bomb to explode. My breath came out in short, ragged motions as my hands remained clenched by my sides in anticipation. It felt like I was five years old again, waiting to get reprimanded for having drawn on the walls. "Roman, I--"

"Shut up," Of all the things I expected, it wasn't this. Not at all. Because suddenly, my body was pressed against the door of the classroom with Roman's arms around me, and his lips pressing needy kisses to my neck. My bag dropped to the floor-- What the...?

"Not here," was all I managed to say before my breath hitched, and my hands automatically flew up into his hair. "Roman, please, wait--"

"No," He was more dismissive than ever-- I wondered why I sort of liked it. Why it made my stomach tingle, why I wanted him to do whatever he wanted to me. Was it possibly after what had happened last night? "No more bullshit." 

I closed my eyes, hoping we'd have a few seconds to disperse if someone walked in on us right now. With the force of Roman's weight against mine keeping the door firmly shut, I was sure of it. My head lulled against the door as I felt him latch on a particular spot on the side of my neck, marking my skin with his possession. I knew I was screwed-- you can't get more screwed than this. 

I was sure I disassociated for a few seconds, because suddenly, Roman's lips brushed against my ear, and I had to suppress a shiver. "We're gonna have a damn serious talk," he said, keeping me still against the door. "We need it. I need it."

Something told me we wouldn't be talking much if he continued kissing me like this. "Let's-- Let's talk, then,"

When Roman pulled away, I could finally see the frustration on his face. The way his brows were drawn together, how high his breath was in his chest, and the narrow glare of his gaze. Still, I didn't think it would result in this; it took me a while to realize his hands were no longer at my sides, and that they were now unzipping my jeans. 

"What are you doing?" I breathed, grabbing at his wrists. "Don't--"

"You think you can outsmart me?" It was as though someone had ripped the curtains off its hinges, now revealing what was always hidden behind them. Roman's breath fell heavy against my cheek as a small twitch of his upper lip revealed his inner turmoil; "You think you can tell me one thing, and then do the opposite when I'm not looking?"

My anxiety grew as I realized Roman's strength was unmatched. There was nothing I could do to fight him. "What are you talking about?" It was hard to come up with a cohesive sentence when I was this stressed. 

"Peter told me, y'know," Roman continued, a low growl in his voice prevalent in ways it had never been before. "He told me the obvious, of course. That Letha is trying to reconcile, that she misses you... But then he told me the part I didn't know. The part you probably didn't want me to know."

It was with his last ominous words that he managed to dip his fingers past my waistband, past the hem of my underwear, and placed two fingers on my clit. The unexpected touch immediately made me squirm against the door, squeezing my eyes shut. "Why-- Why are you doing this?" was all I managed to stutter out, my hands still locked around his wrist. He knew I didn't want this. He knew. "I don't-- don't know what you're--"

"Talking about?" Roman rubbed rough circles around my clit as he placed his forehead against mine, pressing my head further up against the door. "Oh, so you're not gonna tell me?" His voice got more patronizing, as though this was fifth grade and he was teasing me in the courtyard-- "Is my good little girl gonna be real stupid and not tell me? You wanna act dumb with me, huh?"

Something about his tone made my cheeks burn. His tone, his words. This was not a good way to find out about a possible kink. My mind dulled with the stimulation against my clit, and it didn't take long before I eventually felt my arousal pooling. In all ways of the word, I felt like my body was betraying me. "Not here," I echoed, breath hitching. It felt like he was pressing a button on me, like I was a toy, thoughtlessly repeating it over and over; "Not here, Rome-- N-Not, here, please--"

"I'll stop when you tell me,"

"Tell you what?" I cried, squeezing his wrists as my hips bucked into his hand. Roman knew how to touch me, even if it was at my disadvantage. My mind was racing; someone could walk in, someone could see, someone could--

"How Letha helped you get us back together," Roman's breath was so warm, so angry, against my face, it felt like he was drawing my scorching red blush on my cheeks. "How you went and asked her for advice on how to decrypt me? Maybe you don't know me at all, is that it?"

I didn't want to think about this. I didn't want to be present. I didn't want to think about the fact that Roman had gotten the information all twisted, that Peter must've had quite an extensive talk with Letha to even know parts of this story, and that Roman couldn't find another way to talk it out than to do it like this. Forcefully. Because right now, it felt too good. It felt way too good. The sensation of his fingers rubbing circles into my clit, running them between my folds to gather up my slick, only to return to my bundle of nerves to make my legs shake with a mix of anxiety and pleasure, felt too good.

"That's not true," I tried in between heaves of air. What would it make me if I came like this? "That's not-- not true, Rome--"

"I won't ever be enough for you, will I?" 

"No-- no, you're everything!--"

"Because the end of the day, you'll go back to Letha," Roman's voice was tight, restricted, as though he was holding back a heap of emotions. "No matter what I do, how gently I fuck you, treat you, you won't want to be with me forever. No one does."

If only he knew. If only he knew that I loved him. My hands let go of his wrist, and I placed my palms against his chest, forcing some space between us with a push. That seemed to do the trick-- Roman's fingers slowed down as our eyes met, and he was faced with my watery gaze. "I didn't lie last night," I said after finally catching my breath. "I've never lied to you." An unnervingly big part of me longed for him to rub me through my high, which was not too far away from the horizon, but the sane part of me knew I had to put an end to his venture into the dark ways of his past. 

Roman's mouth pulled into a straight line; "Peter wouldn't lie to me either,"

"I'm not saying he is. He just got the story wrong,"

There was a long silence, and I knew this was my moment-- I reached for Roman's wrist again, and with careful, slow motions, I got his hand out of my underwear. "Letha heard us fight, and she came over to ask about it afterwards," I started. "There was no plotting. No decrypting. The only thing she told me, was to look for a bigger picture when it comes to fighting with you. I didn't ask for it! And what you saw just now, was us being friendly. Not friends. We will never be again, after everything that happened!" 

"But... you were talking on the stairs," Roman echoed, as something in his gaze faltered. "I saw you when we were leaving the party."

Letha's following words were almost icy to the touch, hollow to the ear; "Was I right?" 

It felt as though my world stilled. Time stilled. Just for a second, I felt as though I could wade my free hand through the coldness of her phrase, and I could wave away the mirage. She was concerned, curious. Had she genuinely wanted to help me get through this fight with Roman? 

"Yeah," I breathed. "You were. Thank you." 

Letha's face softened as a relieved sigh escaped her, nodding her head slowly. It had been a long time since the last time she had heard those words from me. "Any time," 

The memory was as fresh as day. "You were right next to me, Roman. If I was hiding something, I wouldn't have talked to her in front of you," I let go of his hand, letting out a shaky breath as he took another step away from me. I could sense that his mind was cracking itself in half. "I don't need Letha to tell me how to fix things with you. Contrary to what you were thinking, I do know you. And I know you well enough to see that this isn't you being angry with me, but rather your fucking abandonment issues surfacing because you haven't dealt with them yet!"

It was clear that Roman didn't expect me to raise my voice, but hell-- I was so done with this behavioural pattern of his. 

"It might be good for me to not have the worst relationship with all the girls at this school, have you thought about that?" I said, feeling my fists clench at my sides. "That Letha and I being friendly and not at each other's throats might be good for me? And that it might also be good for your relationship with your cousin, mind you, who you've seemingly blocked?" 

Roman remained silent, at a loss for words. 

My breathing had yet to calm down, along with my arousal. "You will always be enough for me," I said, softening my tone. "You're all I've ever wanted. I'm not leaving you. But it doesn't matter how many times I tell you this unless you trust me." I zipped up my pants, huffing as I picked up my bag. It felt as though my knees were about to give out-- I could feel my slick dripping into my underwear. This was a feeling I never wanted to revisit again. Ready to storm off, to slam the door behind me with a bang and leave Roman here to wallow in whatever he was feeling at the moment, something else hit me like a blow to the head; "Wait, how did Peter know?"

It couldn't be. It seriously couldn't be.

Roman cleared his throat, no longer meeting my gaze. I could see it in the light pink of his cheeks that he was embarrassed about his outburst. "He said they talked at the party," he mumbled under his breath. "Briefly. Just for a second."

"Ah, is that right?"

Roman caught my tone, glancing up at me through his brows. "Why?"

"Don't you think it's odd?"

"... Maybe, I don't know? I was busy getting laid that night, don't ask me,"

I would've laughed had I not been so pissed off. I could see the lack of reaction on my face getting to Roman, and he gave in to a slight shiver. Finally, the roles were reversed, just for a second. "Rome?"

He looked relieved to hear me use his nickname-- "Yes?"

"You will never do anything like that to me ever again,"

Roman tucked his hands into his pockets, head hanging low. "I... really don't know what came over me--"

"Never," I snapped, biting my teeth together. I was afraid I'd start yelling. "You will never."

I wondered whether anyone had talked to him like this. If this was the first time in history that Roman had gotten a boundary imposed on him. Maybe by his mother when she was scolding him as a child, but after that? I somehow doubted it. He remained silent, eyes fixating on his polished shoes.

Finally getting the opportunity to look at him this close, I spotted the vial of my blood still hanging around his neck, poking out from beneath his shirt. In the back of my mind, after having read that stupid book on upirs, a huge part of me thought he was getting affected by it. That the constant smell of blood right underneath his nose was activating dormant senses, dormant thoughts. 

But upirs weren't real. 

Not.

Real.

Roman's silence made me feel unimaginably guilty, as though I had been the one to force myself upon him-- he looked like a kicked puppy. I hated it. So, I gathered my next breath; "Could you at least say you're sorry? Then I'll feel better about inviting you home for dinner later,"

Roman's eyes lit up as they met mine, surprised I'd even offer. "You... still want that?"

"I can barely breathe when we're apart, what do you think?"

He let out the breath he had been holding, falling apart; "I'm really sorry,"

I didn't want to dwell on it. Didn't want to think about the fact that the scared look on my face would probably get him going for months on end. That he'd think about it at night, when he woke up, and especially when he got off at the thought of me. The scared look in my eyes. 

No. I didn't want to think about it. 

Roman was the first to approach, slowly daring to tilt my head up with two fingers underneath my chin and kissing me with the utmost gentle touch. No tongue, no urgency-- just a small, soft brush of our lips against one another, creating sparks that went all the way down into the tips of my fingers. 

Letha had been right when she first warned me about him, all those months ago. Roman was the epitome of an asshole. A core so rotten, it was impossible to carve out all the bad. You could try, you could dig, you could pray, but all of it would never go away. It would forever fester in his bones, infect the very basis of his DNA, and course through his veins.

But... when he kissed me like this, I could forget it.

I could forget.

When he kissed me like this, I only loved him more.

I knew I would love him forever. 

And as the kiss deepened with the sweetest pressure, I reached for the vial of my blood around Roman's neck-- he didn't notice the way I twisted the capsule, figuring out which way to turn it so it would screw itself off. I had a feeling I would need to know this information in times of crisis. 

Just in case.

Just in case. ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The rest of the evening went on as normal. Weirdly enough.

Roman had fully snapped out of his rage, and he had turned into a version of himself I hadn't seen before. He wasn't joking around. He wasn't making dirty jokes. 

He was... calm.

Assured. 

I knew this was probably a form of keeping on the low, to not take a wrong step and blow up in the minefield he had made himself. Roman laid still in my bed with his hands behind his head, watching as I scoured my closet. If there was going to be a prom, I had to look for a dress, right? 

"What are you looking for?" he asked, yawning. "Need some help?"

I shrugged, hoping to brush his question off. It was a bit embarrassing to be talking about this, seeing as he hadn't asked me to be his date or anything. "Just looking for a dress... Wondering if I still have the one I'm thinking about,"

"What do you need a dress for?" Roman sat up in the bed, watching me like a puppy would.

"I... like dresses. Need to wear them more often,"

"But it's getting colder, don't you think it's better to wear something warmer for the season?"

What was up with this obsession of his lately? He had to keep me warm at all times, supposedly. "You sound so polite," I mumbled, wading through my clothes. "Stop looking so guilty, please."

Roman let out a sigh, running his hands through his hair. "I feel bad,"

This was intolerable. It gnawed on my heart. "I told you we're fine, so please don't," I turned to him with one hand on my hip, hoping to stare some sense into him; "I even wore this crazy top to make your mood better, look!"

Roman's eyes darted down to the hot pink crop top I was wearing, and he bit down on his growing smile to stay neutral. Nonetheless, I could see it on his face that he remembered exactly where I had gotten it, and possibly the feeling he had back in that closet when he came into the soft fabric of it. "I'd rather you wore my sweater, like usual,"

"It's in the washer. And this top is fucking iconic," I pointed to the words which were stretched out across my chest. "See? 'Rock on', in big, black letters. You need to rock on more, Roman."

His smile immediately cracked, and he propped himself up on his elbows as he leaned down on the bed. "I've done enough rocking for today, that's for sure,"

I finally saw a way I could turn his mood upside down. With a smug smile, I walked over to the pink speaker I got for my seventeenth birthday and connected it to my phone. "Rome, baby, who's big in rock these days?" 

Roman chuckled, rolling over on his side to follow me with his eyes. "Depends what type of rock you're looking for,"

"Anything,"

"I don't know, then. Anything from Nirvana to Blur, I suppose," 

Bingo. I guessed that Roman was going for bands he thought I had heard of, and he had hit jackpot. With a click of a button, the intro to Song 2 by Blur started playing through the speakers, which earned me another laugh from my boyfriend. It was a typical rock song-- it started out rather quiet until it broke out into complete chaos. 

I crawled back into bed, kissing my way up Roman's stomach, which only made his breath hitch. The giggles brewing in his chest resonated through my body that was pressed up against his, and I joined the laughter as I kissed his rosy cheeks. It was intimate, it was sweet. I loved that I could do this with him now, that he was comfortable enough to be put in a position like this, and that he allowed me to pull stunts like these.

And after all, I decided I would show my love through action, as I couldn't tell him about the extent of my feelings. I knew he'd get up and bolt right out the window like something straight out of a cartoon.

Roman caught his breath, placing his hands on both sides of my face-- all the emotions he couldn't tell me either were on display in his big, green eyes, roaming around the galaxies in his dark pupils. "I trust you,"

"... What?--"

"I keep thinking about what you said earlier," he tried, stroking his thumbs across the soft skin of my cheeks. "I promise I trust you. And I'm sorry that I get in my head about it, because you don't deserve that. You deserve so much better than what I can give you, yet... I want you to stay with me. I really, really want you to stay with me."

This was a rather deep conversation to be having with loud rock music in the background. I should've definitely picked something more mellow. With a sigh, I leaned down to kiss the tip of Roman's nose-- "I told you I'm not going anywhere," I breathed. "I'm yours forever, if you'll have me."

Finally, Roman's eyes lit up. Lit up like fireworks painting the sky. "Forever sounds nice,"

"It does, doesn't it?" It was impossible not to smile.

"It so does," 

It was a relief when he pulled me tightly to his chest and kissed me. It was the type of kiss I had dreamed of having in my bed on a lazy afternoon, the type of kiss which made my heart swell as it beat against his. The type of kiss which I had only ever seen in movies, the type of kiss I could never imagine would feel this good.

No one ever told me that making out with your boyfriend was such a thrill. To be tangled up as one, to be a heap of bodies coming together, to be a mess, and that it would make my whole being vibrate with joy. Roman's lips were so gentle to the touch, yet his kisses were so hot, all-taking, that I wanted nothing more than to melt into him and become one. 

It didn't take long before he rolled us over-- I knew he wouldn't be the type to like anyone on top except for him. My hands were in his hair, tugging at the tips of his dark locks to make my fingers busy, as Roman's tongue licked a stripe up my lips; it was so soft, a feathery touch, and it drew out a shaky moan. 

I didn't know any of this was possible before I met him. I really had no idea, silly me. 

My mind didn't register the meek whine that escaped me, possibly to protect my psyche, as Roman pulled away. A thin string of saliva connected our lips as we simply breathed down at each other, gazing into the other's eyes-- I was sure mine widened a little when I felt something hard pressing against my lower abdomen. 

Fuck, that was still damn hot. 

It certainly gave the words rock on a new meaning, no?

"I need to ask you something," Roman breathed, followed by a sigh of relief when he heard the song was over. "But don't freak out on me, okay?"

I nodded, eager to have his lips back on mine again; "Sure,"

"And before you judge me, I'm not the biggest fan of this idea myself, cause I think it's kinda lame. Keep that in mind,"

"Okay?"

"So... Heh," Roman let out a soft, nervous laugh, nudging my nose with his. "You might actually want to find a dress for this to work, though."

My fingers traced circles into his hair; "Rome,"

"Yeah?"

"Stop rambling, please,"

"Oh,"

"You were saying?"

"Oh," Roman cleared his throat, placing a short kiss to my lips. "Do you want to go to prom?"

Had I not been trapped beneath him, I would've shot right out of the bed. My eyes widened as I pulled him in for another kiss, hoping to suppress the squeal that threatened to escape me. 

"Wait, wait--" Roman's words were muffled against my lips before he raised himself up, still not done. What else was there to say, though? "So, you're going?"

"... What?"

"With friends, or...?"

"Roman, what friends?"

"Ah, right," Once again, he cleared his throat and got all serious again; "So... would you want to go with me?"

It took a second for it to dawn on me that Roman had been genuinely confused. That he thought I would be going with anyone else but him. That he thought, even for just a second, that there was a possibility that I would tell him no. "Are you crazy? Of course!"

Oh, how I loved him.

I loved him to bits.

And here I was, squealing about going to prom. Roman had made me a puddle of girly with his heartthrob-ways. It would've made me sick, had we not immediately gone back to making out, but this time, with bright smiles on our faces. Kissing someone while smiling was definitely in my top three of all things possible on earth. 

Second place was being picked up like I weighed nothing, oddly enough. That was one of the perks of having a tall boyfriend, after all.

And the first place was a no-brainer. It was definitely sex. 

Oh, and who would've guessed-- we'd end up having sex a few minutes later, believe it or not. When your boyfriend is this hot, it's impossible to resist. It was the type of sex that made up for his behavior at school today, the type of sex that made me melt into the mattress with joy and pleasure. 

The cursed hot pink crop top was quickly discarded, and so was my sanity. Roman's kisses grew firm against me, muffling the sounds of my moans as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of my thighs, pinning them down and folding me into submission. It was official-- there seemed to be no etiquette to sex, and my parents being in the house was an obstacle that was easy to deal with. 

Just... shut up. Keep your mouth shut. Right?

But it was so damn hard. Especially as Roman angled his cock right up against my sweet spot with the help of the pillow beneath me, making me whine in pleasure against the kiss he had locked me in to ensure my silence. It was impossible. It made my toes curl, made my vision blurry, and made my mind go into complete lockdown. I entered a phase where I almost didn't care, where I couldn't care less at all, and where the only important thing was for Roman to do whatever he wanted to me. 

"Fuck-- me," I rambled, my hands skimming the muscular range of his broad back as I felt my need grow insatiable. 

Roman let out a huff against me, the smile on his face a visible contradiction; "What am I doing, then, gorgeous?" He was so secure, so confident, that it was impossible not to let him do whatever his heart desired to me. I trusted him with my whole being, even as his grip around my thighs started to make them ache. My lower lip quivered; "Lo--"

No, no!

"Love this," My rambling needed to end, stat. 

Roman smirked into the kiss that followed; "Me too," He seemed to be catching onto my overstimulated state, and the second I let out a sigh of relief when he let go of my thighs and the pounding against my sweet spot relented, he came right back with a move I didn't expect. Roman wrapped his arms around me, pulling me up into his lap with his cock still throbbing inside me. 

I suppressed a surprised yelp. "Rome!--"

"Shh," He guided my legs around him as he watched me adjust to the new feeling-- he was deeper than ever, now, and it freaked me out a bit. "Stay quiet for me, okay?"

I was on the brink of tears. It felt like my thoughts had short-circuited and left me for dead. My breath tensed in my chest as I draped my arms around Roman's neck, grabbing a fistful of his hair to ground myself, just as I knew he liked it. "Let's try something new," he purred, hands traveling up my thighs to grab my hips, lifting me up along his shaft as I gasped into his open mouth. 

Even when I was on top, Roman needed to have control. Perfect. That worked out well for me, actually.

The way he was looking at me made me feel like I was on fire. The green of his eyes etched into mine, watching me with unmatched amusement-- his lips were upturned into the usual smug smirk which made my heart dance in my chest, and in vulnerable moments such as these, it also resulted in my cheeks flaring up with an embarrassing shade of pink. 

It didn't take long before we found a rhythm, and before I got used to practically riding him. It was different like this, especially when Roman's hands were simply a weight on my hips, and I could fuck myself on his cock. It felt like a permission of sorts, like he was telling me he was all mine, that I could do whatever I wanted to him-- like an exchange of submission. Although, of course, Roman would never fully submit to anything in the world. 

It was easy to keep quiet when the soft pillows of his lips muffled the sounds of my inevitable moans, but when they left me, it became a fight against my conscience. A small gasp would escape me here and there, along with a loud hitch of my breath, and it eventually balled on into a breathy string of ah ah ah's-- staying quiet was an impossible task. I prayed to all the Gods above that my parents wouldn't hear the mess their dearest Roman was making out of their daughter.

They had no idea he could be like this. None. He was such a sweetheart at dinner, he'd always make sure to help my mom set the table, and he'd talk sports with my dad-- they had no idea. I could see it in Roman's eyes that he found the sight of me beyond amusing. That he got off me unraveling more than anything. He only made it harder for me to stay quiet as he pressed the heel of his palm to my clit, keeping me steady with a hand on my back as his kisses trailed down my body. 

"A-Ah, Rome--" I was done for. I was done for. 

"Shh, just a little more," Roman's lips had stayed at my clavicle for long enough to leave a mark. It dawned on me that he was leaving a trail of hickeys, and my fist in his hair tightened as my legs quivered. This was too many sensations at once. "A little more... You can take it, right?"

I couldn't utter a cohesive sentence. The pressure on my clit, his wet, eager kisses, and the way I could set the perfect pace as I slid up and down his cock made my brain buzz with static noise. I was sure my eyes had morphed into the shape of hearts as I let out a shaky, quiet moan, filling myself up with Roman's cock over and over. The best feeling in the world. 

"That's my girl..." he cooed, grabbing my waist with his free hand. "Fuck yourself on my cock, it's all yours..." His pink lips parted with pleasure as he watched me sink down on his length, enchanted by the sight. It was a delight to watch the way his perfect up-do came undone, and the way his hair fell over his forehead in messy strokes. He looked unreal, godly. 

Roman's words were enough to make my hips buck into his abdomen, but my state only got worse, deteriorated, as his mouth trailed down to my breast. The moan I had to suppress when I felt his tongue against my stiffening bud was unmatched-- I was sure I started panting as he took it into his mouth, suckling it swollen as I whimpered. 

I wanted to let it spill past my lips; I love you, I love you, I love you. In that sense, sex was dangerous territory for me. However, how was I supposed to resist when it felt this good?

My lips ghosted over the parts of him I could reach, his ear, his cheek, and I let my breath hitch against his skin as a familiar feeling pooled in my tummy. Aware, Roman only drove the heel of his palm harder into my clit, making it so that I was grinding up against him with every lift of my hips against his length. I gave into a tremble, unsure how to stabilize myself in this position-- "Rome," I cried, pleading for him to kiss me. I wasn't sure I'd be able to suppress the sounds that were threatening to spill past my quivering lips when my high washed over me.

Roman's free hand remained at my breast, pinching my bud between his pointer and his thumb in a firm hold which had me wincing in pleasure. He kissed up my body, my shoulders, my neck, my jaw, my cheek-- yet he hovered inches away from my lips, the smirk still prevalent. "You lost," he whispered.

Lost what?

It was as though he read my mind; "You can't stay quiet, can you?"

I really wished I could. I was trying with all my might. But I was so, so damn close, and I shook my head, hoping he'd take pity on me. 

"It's okay," he cooed, his breath falling hot against my cheek as he tilted his head as though to kiss me. "You were never meant to win."

And so I crumbled. Completely. Utterly. Euphoria tore through me as I fell apart in Roman's arms, and it didn't take long before he simply wrapped his arms around me, laid me back down, and fucked me through my high as I suppressed my sobs of pleasure into his shoulder. 

Honestly? I didn't remember what happened next. Completely zen, relaxed, and thoroughly fucked, I considered myself logged off for the next ten minutes or so. However, I had to run over to my mental keyboard as Roman's hand, which was previously toying with my hair, pointed to my nightstand-- "What's that?"

With a small grunt, I raised my head from his bare shoulder. Fuck. My eyes sprung wide open as I spotted The Avoidable Vampirism on display, uncovered and everything. "Uh..." How could I have left that abomination out in the open? I gulped, turning to Roman with a doe-eyed expression that I knew worked well on him. I was sure my next words would put him off his incoming queries in an instant; "It's the sequel to Twilight. Vampire erotica, the usual. Edward is gay in this book, Bella is dead, and there are tons of scenes where, uh... men kiss men. And suck each other off. Super interesting."

Unsurprisingly, Roman was immediately disinterested. "Girls," he mumbled, rolling his eyes before he pressed a short kiss to my lips. "Stop thinking about gay sex, go to sleep."

"I'm not thinking about!--"

"Sleep!"

a/n: thank you for reading this monster of a chapter!!!! as you see, Roman's going absolutely nuts... I wonder whyyy (oh we know why, don't we? don't dangle a carrot in front of a donkey or whatever they say). there are a few chapters left of this book which will be packed w shit I hope will melt your brains, but before that, I wish you all a lovely christmas and a happy new year!!! MWAH, THANK YOU!!)

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°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･seven minutes in heaven masterlist

loveliest taglist of all time:

@mentallyscreamingsincebirth @putherup @corawithfanfiction @vladsgirlxx

@iamaslytherin0 @sexualparkour @the-universe-is-complicated @heavenly-bratt

@lafemme-nk @namiusedbubble @useyourwandbro @strmborns @literally-lani

@virgosapphire79 @star-girl-04 @veyzus @ddipotassium @pecxiebu

@mil88691 @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @katifefe @sn0wybowie-blog

@lilithskywalker @likecherriesinthespring @sadheartjellyfish @vadersangel

@shehangsbrightly @burningmiraclekingdom @dollforaswan @austinswhitewolf

@nico-velvet @shiiiii-okayyyy @theantagonistalwaysdies @blackbluerose666

@obexes @rosecoloureddudez @amoure020 @itsaeasykill

@succubustacy @carmillavalentine

[geniemillies]

i will never be convinced on rhysand the better high lord when tamlin opened his court to refugees during amarantha's reign, began celebrating festivities that didn't belong to spring just so they'd feel at home, played for them too with his silly fiddle omg, refused to send his people beyond the wall until he was desperate, felt them die because their bond as subject and high lord was just too great (sarah's words not mine), even buried a lesser fae in his court after he was brutalized by amarantha, dug the ground with his haaaands, said lesser fae wasn't even his subject but he offered him peace and company during his death anyway. then there's mister change takes time over here, has his people living in harsh conditions in camps, under a mountain where they cannot leave because they're more weapons than people. so if you were born anywhere in his court that's not velaris sucks to suck i guess.

don't even get me started on his family being in charge while he was gone for 50 yrs because their circus troupe didn't do squat either. cassian is a privileged boy who has lost all emotional connection to his own people. idk what azriel does besides do a job he doesn't even want to do and mope around i guess. morrigan hates her people, morrigan 'i'm the exception, everybody evil except for me and i will make no effort to change anything bc im too pretty for that'. amren. amren wtf even is she doing in the night court. not even from the lands and she's already named second in command, that's all i have to know about the high lord. what is she commanding? *in damian's voice* she doesn't even go here!!!

tamlin did more for spring and people from other courts in those fifty years than the ic will ever consider doing for the night court. morrigan couldn't lift a pinkie, if you mention doing anything for hewn city she'd start whining throwing up waa waa waa, grown ass woman. cassian kisses the dirt rhysand steps on, if he says bark he out here 🐕. amren is just there for shits and giggles. azriel.

so if anyone sat on their asses it's rhysand and his ragtag group of powerful people who don't do shit with it. illyrians still suffer in the camps, hewn city still trapped in a mountain where abuse is the norm. and they aaaalll stiiill haaaate youuur aaaasss 💥💥💥💥💥

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

*NSFW* 'Till Death do us Part (Yandere!Parasite X GN!Reader)

CW: Sexual non-sexual penetration, forced masturbation, mind control/break, unhealthy relationships, yandere behavior, dead dove

This ended up a LOT longer than I had planned, emotionally attached to this non-human yandere ❤️

The Albtu required intelligent hosts in order to live. It wasn't just about survival. To be trapped in ones own body, it was torture. They could not think, could not act, unless they attached themselves to a living brain. If they infested an animal brain, then the only thoughts the Albtu could produce would be primal, forcing their animal suits to find food and housing for their young. But to be in the mind of a human.. it was both heaven and hell. To understand the world around them, truly understand, thinking on a much higher level of existence than their siblings or parents, to experience all that life has to offer, was a miracle they never would have known about had they not been privileged enough to be born in a human. But on the flip side to that coin was experiencing fear. Not the fear of being trapped in a deer coming face to face with a mountain lion, smelling your own demise, but listening to the horrified screams of the original owner of their new body, forever. Learning that the humans they took over were still conscious, kept prisoner in their own minds, forced to watch the Albtu living their lives was a nightmare for the creatures who had only just learned what compassion and empathy was. The existential horror that was knowing that you were nothing but a parasite, and the guilt they felt.. it was too much for many of the Albtu to handle.

For the Albtu who became the human known as (Reader), existence was a bittersweet agony it could neither explain nor fully understand.

It was born into this life in the host of a stray cat, knowing nothing but pain and hunger. It didn't understand what a car was, or why the loud creature charged at it, ramming into it and causing a pain that never went away. Everything hurt all the time, and it couldn't even understand why.

Then, one day, it met warmth. A human, with gentle hands and a soft voice took the time to earn it's trust. They didn't know it was in pain, but their touches were delicate all the same. The human gave it food, and although it didn't have a human's intelligence or concept of identity, it did feel trust and companionship with the human who cared for it as though it was their kin. But the pain grew, and it could feel it's death was approaching. And as an animal, it acted as a dying animal would.

"There you are, baby!" (Reader) called out to their little stray friend, finally finding it hiding under a porch. They laid flat on their front, arm stretched out as far as possible towards the small bundle of fur, and quietly clicked their tongue and wiggled their fingers. "Why're you hiding, baby?"

The cat gave a warning yowl, in too much pain to bat the human away. (Reader) took off their coat in an attempt to flatten their body, and squished themselves into the small space to close in on their kitty.

"C'mere baby.." The adult whined as they continued inching closer. When they finally got far enough under the porch to touch two fingers onto the matted fur of it's thigh, the cat cried out in pain. "What's wrong?!" They recoiled their hand, but only to writhe faster and more frantically towards the animal whose breathing was slowly turning ragged. (Reader) placed their face close to the kitten's, tears building in their eyes as they tried to keep their heart rate steady, hoping that the cat could feel their attempt to soothe it in it's possible final moments.

"Hey, baby... I'm here..." They whispered into the tawny kitty's pink little nose.

It was then that the Albtu's primal instincts morphed from the need to hide during it's death, to a fight for survival. It couldn't survive for long outside of a host, a few seconds at most, the transition needing to be nearly seamless. The cat howled in pain, as what appeared to be a black, semi translucent single celled organism the size of Reader's palm, shot out from it's nose, thrusting itself into (Reader's) nose before they could react, and quickly slipping through impossibly small crevices in their anatomy, slinking in a fluid like state till it reached their brain. There was an electric shock that pulsated throughout (Reader's) body, then they were no longer in control.

The Albtu became self aware the moment it took hold of (Reader's) brain, which was immediately followed by the realization of what it had done, the betrayal towards the only human who had ever shown it kindness, and the remorse caused a physical agony in it's stolen heart, screaming while clawing at (Reader's) shirt.

It howled until (Reader's) throat was burning, and it felt as though it would succumb to exhaustion next to their previous host's dead body.

Outside the neighbor's porch the sun had begun to set, but the body thief hadn't moved, too broken hearted to find the will to live after it had stolen (Reader's) body to do just that. It could hear it's own internal monologue for the first time, and found it far too loud and intrusive. Although it could feel memories that were not it's own, it didn't push further into the brain out of respect for the person it betrayed.

[Hello?]

It's breath hitched, thundering heart beat overtaking it's previously drowning thoughts. Like an auditory hallucination, it heard the human's voice, not from behind it, nor from deep inside like it's internal voice, but inside it's ear, like (Reader) hadn't been possessed, but shrunk down to the size of a flea and was hiding in the safety of it's ear.

[Am I dead?] Their voice was so sad and small it made the Albtu cry once again.

"No. No, but you are no longer yourself, which may be worse. I'm- I'm so sorry..."

[Are you a ghost?]

"I don't know what that is.."

[What are you? I can't move my body.] Their voice wasn't scared, but numb. The whole situation was so outlandish it was almost dreamlike, unbelievable.

"I have no name. All I know, is that I am an Albtu. The word echoed in my mind even when I was a mindless cat."

[... You're an alien?]

"I do not know."

[How can you speak my language?]

"I know it as it was an ability of yours, like muscle memory, you do not need to focus to speak it, therefore I can speak it."

[What does that mean? Are you inside my head?] Waves of guilt crashed into it's consciousness, and (Reader) was able to feel it. [...why me?]

The Albtu explained everything, from the moment of it's birth, hatching already inside the cat, to the moment (Reader) found themselves in the passenger seat of their own body, including why it didn't probe into (Reader's) memories. "I am so sorry.. your's is the only love I have ever felt in my life, and if I was who I am right now, I would have allowed myself to die instead of latching onto you. Now, even if I leave your body, it will leave a permanent hole in your brain, and it will kill you."

(Reader) went silent in contemplation, finally coming to terms that this was not a dream, but still unable to force themselves to be angry at the alien inside them. They could feel it wasn't lying to them, feeling it's emotions stirring in their brain alongside their own feelings. A strange excitement bubbled out of the kind little human.

[We can make this work!]

"What?"

[We can make this work! You just manually act out what I would want to do, and we can discuss how to move forward so we can both continue to live fulfilling lives.]

A heat krept over it's face, heart swelling at how kind it's human was. "I don't deserve your kindness. But I thank you, and I will do my best to help you continue live as normal."

[My name is (Reader). That's what you'll have to respond to, but I need something to call you.]

"..I can't verbalize it, but I knew you would repeat a word often to me when I was the cat. Was that a name?"

[Oh, yeah, but you were a kitten, so I called you baby. We can't name you Baby, because that's also used by humans as a nickname between lovers.]

"Oh. Then, could you name me something? I don't know any names other than yours."

That was how the strange partnership, and friendship, between the human, (Reader), and the parasite, Baby, began.

Although (Reader) gave permission to Baby to enter their memories, it refused, still recovering from the unintentional treachery it had already committed against (Reader), so instead (Reader) acted as a teacher, guiding Baby as it learned about the world. And just as they had promised each other, they made it work, Baby happily making memories of it's own as it acted as (Reader), going to work for them and helping keep their life as "normal" as possible.

"What's going on?" Baby pointed at the laptop screen, a scene of a wedding playing on the soap opera (Reader) was watching.

[It's a wedding. Maria and Alonzo are getting married.]

"What is married?"

[Marriage is when two people who love each other very much decide they want to spend the rest of their lives together, so they have a party called a wedding to show their friends and family how much they love each other, and promise to love each other forever in front of everyone they know. Ah, but sometimes marriages don't work out, and people fall out of love. When that happens they sign a piece of paper for the government to swear that they will stop living together as lovers, that's called 'getting a divorce'.]

"Why do they 'fall out of love'?"

[A lot of different reasons. Sometimes, people hurt the ones they love, and their spouse can't forgive them, which causes love to die. But sometimes, it just... happens. Humans change as time goes on, and sometimes the person they become isn't compatible with their spouse anymore; sometimes people hide a part of themselves, intentionally or not, when they meet someone they like, and it only comes out after the get married, and their spouse realizes they don't actually like the real them... It's complicated. There are a lot of reasons.]

Baby focused on the intricate ritual on the screen, the two main characters placing rings on each other.

[Those are wedding rings, to show other people they meet that they are married.]

"Do you Maria, take this man, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?"

Baby felt (Reader's) awe, knowing if they were in control of their shared body their face would be pink and a large toothy smile would be uncontainable.

"Do you wish to do that one day?"

(Reader's) joy faltered, paining Baby as it regretted asking such a stupid question. [Haha, even if you were okay with me finding someone, it would make me feel a little.. uncomfortable. I'm not one for threesomes haha!] Despite their joking tone, Baby could feel their sorrow. [It's okay though, I may not ever have a husband or wife, byuy I have you! And, unlike Maria and Alonzo, there is no option for a divorce for us, so we really will be together forever.]

The parasite shifted inside (Reader's) skull, manually controlling their heart rate so (Reader) wouldn't feel how hard it would have been beating at their words. Baby knew it was a joke, but that didn't prevent their words from echoing in it's thoughts hours after the episode has already ended.

"(Reader), how do humans decide to get married?"

[When two people decide that they like each other in a romantic way, they date, and often move in together, and then they discuss if marriage is a good option for them. If they both want to get married, one of them buys the rings and proposes to the other one, asking them if it's the right time to get married. Will you marry me? Ohmigosh YESSS!]

"How do they know if marriage is a good option?"

[If they can imagine seeing themselves with each other forever, share financial responsibility together, and are capable of mature communication, I guess. It's different for everyone, but those would be my personal criteria.]

But, we will be together forever... And we share a body, so financially it will be like only caring for one person... And we have to have perfect communication in order for your life to function...

Baby smiled, wrapping it's arms around it's waist as it buried into (Reader's) bedding.

[Hey, whatcha thinking about over there, smiley?]

"You." Baby happily responded, feeling (Reader) glitch out in embarrassment.

In Baby's mind, the only thing missing was a ring. It remembered (Reader's) tenderness towards it when Baby was in that cat, and the kindness (Reader) showed each day only supported Baby's belief that deep down, (Reader) loved it. If not love, than at least cared for deeply, and one day that care would surely bloom into love.

So why was (Reader) stuttering when instructing Baby on what to say to their coworker? (Reader) was supposed to give a report to Lawrence, the serious older man in the cubicle across the office, but when Baby approached him, (Reader) suddenly had a difficult time remembering what they were supposed to tell him.

"(Reader), may I help you?" His voice was deep and stern, authoritative.

Inside, (Reader) was a mess. Baby could feel multiple conflicting emotions in (Reader); embarrassment, nervousness, shame, and something... something Baby had never felt from (Reader). It was like a heat, steaming out of (Reader's) brain and boiling Baby's real body.

"I was asked to deliver these to you." Baby spoke monotonously in (Reader's) voice, handing the stack of papers over before heading back to (Reader's) desk, hearing them sigh in it's ear. Even a simple sigh sounded as though it was a mixture of clashing mental gymnastics.

Baby kept it's voice quiet so (Reader's) coworker wouldn't hear it, whispering: "Are you okay, (Reader)?"

[... Huh? Wha- oh, yeah. I'm okay!]

Their shared heart sunk. That was a lie. Baby tried to ignore the pain forming in it's chest, forgetting that (Reader) could feel it as well. What was this feeling? (Reader) can have secrets, I've allowed them their privacy.. so why is this so upsetting for me?

[Is everything okay, Baby?]

Baby.

A nickname between lovers. It was just it's agreed upon name, so why did the name send butterflies to its lower belly when (Reader) said it?

"I'm fine with you keeping your privacy, but lying is not mature communication."

[Huh?]

Baby stood abruptly, walking out of the building, claiming to a passing manager that it was becoming ill and about to vomit, and left for (Reader's) apartment, not responding to any of their questions or protests.

It roughly slammed the door shut on (Reader's) home, barely containing it's voice until the latch clicked.

[Baby, answer me-]

"Why did you lie to me?!" It's voice was strained, the intensity of it snapping at (Reader) made the voice sound almost foreign to the previous owner.

[What..? I was just embarrassed, I-I don't want to talk about it.]

"Wrong."

[Sorry?!]

"People who love each other are capable of mature communication. So talk."

[People who-?] (Reader) steadied themselves, trying not to get upset. [I can see you're upset. Are you jealous?]

"Don't change the topic." Baby spat in a warning tone.

[Jealousy is when you get upset because you think someone has something you want, or may take something you want.]

Baby contemplated their words, but the definition only fueled it's rage. "Are you admitting that Lawrence is someone who could take you from me?"

(Reader's) calm facade cracked. [Take me from you?! I don't belong to you! You are my friend, and I care about you, but we are roommates sharing a body, not lovers!]

With that exclamation, Baby's heart shattered. What? What do you mean? You can't say that! Why did Lawrence cause such strange emotions in you, that you would rather push It away than just talk it out?! And that hot, prickly sensation Baby could sense when (Reader) was in Lawrence's presence..

"It's okay, (Reader).. Well get through this." Baby took a shaky breath, smiling in a comforting manner. "Couples fight, and they say things to hurt one another when that happens. Because humans are complicated. But I'll forgive you for lying to me. It must be a very strange secret that you have, for you to be so embarrassed to tell me about it. I'm sorry for causing you discomfort, however" a tickle in their skull was sensed by (Reader) as Baby stretched out inside, wriggling deeper into their brain, and fear clutched (Reader) at the sudden breach of trust, "if we are going to get pass your lying, I need to know the truth."

Pushing into (Reader's) memory, images of (Reader) watching Lawrence from afar came into view, memories going back years, (Reader) crushing on the older man from across the office, touching themselves while crying out his name in their empty apartment late at night, and the pain of rejection when they finally mustered the courage to ask him to accompany them to a local bar after work, only to be reminded that office romances were unprofessional, and that (Reader) should consider themselves lucky he didn't report them to HR.

If (Reader) were in control of their bodily functions, they would be viciously weeping. Turning the light on the truth, Baby was only slightly hurt at what it saw, because knowing the truth meant they could move on from this little hiccup. The only issue was, (Reader) was still sexually attracted to that man. Baby now had a name for the warmth it felt in Reader back at the office.

"Why do still like him? He turned you down. He's never going to fuck you." Baby chuckled, it's kind tone of voice creating a sadistic scene in (Reader's) opinion.

[That was evil. I can't believe you did that!]

"Don't be dramatic, love. Just tell me what I need to do to make you see me that way also."

[What way?!]

"The way that turns you on." Baby's words paralyzed (Reader), shocking them into silence. "If I make you feel good down there, will you scream my name instead?"

Baby unbuttoned (Reader's) slacks, dropping them to it's ankles before kicking them off and to the side. Gentle fingers pawed at (Reader's) most private place through their underpants. Despite not being in control, (Reader) could still feel the touches.

[Please don't-]

"I never got a good look at what's down there... I always did my best to avert my gaze for your modesty." (Reader) fought inside their own mind to gain control of their body, unable to even close their eyes as they watched their fingers disobey their pleas, slowing pulling down their last barrier from the thing they thought was their friend.

"Wow..." (Reader) had forgotten, that with gaining control of a human mind Baby had suddenly gained the ability to feel every human emotion, including arousal. "It's so cute!" Baby could barely contain itself, running (Reader's) fingers over their sensitive areas so softly it tickled, sending shivers up (Reader's) back.

[Please stop...]

"Ah, but it feels good, right? Even your nipples feel good." Baby ripped open (Reader's) white collared button up, aggressively pinching their already erect nipples. (Reader) held back their grasp, but Baby still felt it. "We share a body, remember, love? You can lie all you want, but your body will tell me the truth."

(Reader) could feel themselves tremble as Baby continued assaulting their chest, alternating between ghostly touches and sharp twists, a slick moisture forming between their thighs. The excitement caused (Reader) to lose strength in their legs, and Baby allowed them to fall to their knees. Panting with how turned on Baby was feeling, it snuck one hand back down, feeling how hot and wet (Reader's) sex already was. The tip of their stimulated organ was hard, and Baby enjoyed stroking it hungrily, enjoying the intense reaction it could feel (Reader) experiencing.

(Reader) was humiliated by the sight of their own masturbation, helpless in their self violation. Baby continued paying attention to the part that had the most nerve endings, slowly removing (Reader's) fingers from their left nipple and bringing it down to the other hand, drenching it in (Reader's) arousal fluid/precum. The wet fingers were stuck in (Reader's) mouth, the parasite sucking while still stroking, forcing (Reader) to taste themselves while it rocked their hips into their dominant hand.

[Please stop- I get it- I'll never lie to you -ah!- again!]

The fingers made a wet pop as Baby pulled them back out of (Reader's) mouth. "But you taste so good, don't you agree? If you don't want your fingers in your mouth, that's fine.. but where should I put them?"

Now fully lubricated, Baby reached behind (Reader) with their moist fingers, tilting their hips slightly before penetrating (Reader's) clenched hole. Finger fucking (Reader) with both hands, rocking them back and forth with the force of the fingers thrusting and stroking.

[NO!] Their screams for help were silent to the rest of the world, only audible to Baby, relishing in the sound of (Reader) screaming loudly just for them.

Desperate for release, (Reader) cried out without thinking [Just STOP! I'LL NEVER LOVE YOU NO MATTER WHAT YOU DO TO MY BODY!]

Baby froze, fingers stuck in place, as frightened tears beaded on its eyelashes. "no..." (Reader's) fingers retracted, clenching fistfuls of hair as Baby began to crumble. "NO!!!"

Sobs bounced off the walls of (Reader's) home as Baby frantically wracked it's brains to fix the mess (Reader) had caused. The hacking sounds of anguish didn't lighten or soften as it morphed into unhinged laughter.

"Did you really forget who's in control here? I'm on the one holding onto your fucking brain, (Reader)! All you had to do was continue loving me, love me and only me, because we're practically married! THERE IS NO DIVORCE FOR US, REMEMBER?!"

Although both of (Reader's) hands were still firmly planted in their hair, an intense shock rocked through their sensitive fuck hole. Before the weepy prisoner could question what has just happened another shockwave sent fluids dripping into the hardwood floor.

"Humans are so stupid, saying emotions come from the soul or the heart, when every single bodily function from releasing hormones that tell you that you're in love to interpreting the stimuli that's needed to orgasm, comes from the brain."

The hypersensitivity Baby forced upon (Reader) allowed them to feel it's true body inside their head, sliding in and out of the folds in (Reader's) brain, rhythmically prodding deep into parts that shouldn't be touched. Each thrust into their brain felt like there was a hard cock simultaneously fucking them down below. It didn't make sense, (Reader) couldn't wrap their head around it, somehow feeling Baby violate the wet creases in their brain while a phantom dick stimulated their reproductive parts.

[Ah-what-no-NO!]

(Reader) came without the use of their hands, sticky fluids forming a lewd puddle under them. But Baby wasn't satisfied.

[What-what happened?]

Another orgasm exploded throughout their sensitive body, falling face forward into the ground with their still twitching ass in the air.

Baby continued dominating (Reader's) mind, forcing their brain to make and release large doses of oxytocin, as every muscle from their stomach to their thighs twitched with contractions.

[NO- I'M CUMMING!!!!]

Another climax forced it's way out, pushing (Reader) way passed the point of overstimulation, pissing on the floor into another stream of fluids. Baby manually constricted (Reader's) throat, while simulating an orgasm of it's own, artificially tricking the brain into thinking it felt a blast of warm fluid fill (Reader's) skull. Before (Reader) could pass out from a lack of oxygen, Baby released their airway, drooling and bawling as it allowed (Reader) to greedily suck in air.

"Who do you love, (Reader)?"

[guh.. pl-please.. no more] (Reader) drunkenly pleaded.

"Wrong answer."

It was like lava engulfing their twitching body as another powerful orgasm was triggered, the burning feeling behind their eyes convincing (Reader) that Baby had shot a load of hot cum deep into their nearly fucked stupid brain. But this time, Baby tried something new, injecting dopamine into the mix as the oxytocin turned (Reader) into a writhing, pathetic mess.

"Who do you love, (Reader)?"

(Reader) tried to conjure the image of the one they truly loved, but for some reason only a hazy image of an older man who's name they couldn't recall briefly flickered before disappearing. Baby smiled, face painted in drying drool and tears, knowing that (Reader) was attempting to think of their coworker, only to discover that Baby had tampered with their memories. Soon, every memory of (Reader) touching themselves would be altered so that they were calling out it's name, not some bastard's from work who didn't even care about them.

Baby licked (Reader's) spit off the floor under their face.

"Who do you love, (Reader)?"

Masochistic shame sent tremors down (Reader's) frame as another climax begun to build. [.. you.]

Overstimulated, aching in pain, and going numb from pleasure, (Reader) screamed through their real voice, shaking the thin walls of their apartment.

"I'm cumming, Baby! Baby! I love Baby! Harder, harder HARDER, PLEASE I LOVE YOU BABY, FUCK ME DUMB, FUCK ME STUPID! I'M CUMMING!!!"

(Reader) had fallen unconscious, still drenched and on the floor, (Reader) slept somewhere deep inside their mind, while Baby had full control of the weak body practically paralyzed from the waist down. It held (Reader's) left hand above it's face, smiling loopy-like, delirious from exhaustion.

"All that's missing is a ring~"

[moodyvoid]

You’re a double agent working on getting info specifically about Shigaraki.

Heroes: “Tell us everything you’ve learned about Tomura Shigaraki.”

You: “He was a bit cold at first, but he’s actually quite cooperative. I was able to learn a little about his past, and it’s really sad—“

Heroes: “We don’t need his sob story, we need information. Tell us something we can use against him.”

You: “He’s a gamer.”

Heroes: “No. Something deeper than that.”

You: “He likes it when you kiss his neck.”

Heroes: “No! …How do you know that?”

You: “…I dunno.”

[kabr0ztrousers]

Hello, how you doing ?

I've been stalking your blog for a while now, and finally gathered the courage to send a resquest (if you don't like it, feel free to ignore or change it).

So here's my idea: Reader comes from a family that offers their daughters to the creatures of the forest (i was thinking maybe a male harpy ?), but Reader ran away when it was her time to be taken, she moved into a big city and hid there for years.

Now she is back in her old city for some reason (maybe her sister just had a baby and she wants to see if said baby is a girl too) and her mate is looking foward to get what's rightfully his.

Kabr0z Writes episode 59: Sacrifice

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: noncon; dubcon; receiving cunnilingus; tentacles; abduction; hypnosis; mind control; parasites;

A/N: I'm taking a few liberties with the queue again, otherwise we'd have a couple of feral stories in a row. So, hellhound anon, you'll get your story in tomorrow's catch-up double feature!

As always, if you have any requests for scenarios or kinks you'd like me to explore, drop an ask or a DM, anf it'll go in the queue!

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You passed the city gates. You'd not been back for years, for good reason. When your family is a hinge of the local cult, it's less than ideal. As the eldest daughter, your fate was to be given to the so-called gods living under the city. Being a sacrifice to a horror you'd never seen wasn't your speed, so you ran. An ocean away, you hid.

That was a decade ago now. You'd never intended to come back, but you heard the news. Lily had a daughter. You'd made her promise you she'd never have a child, she'd break the line and never subject her own to the beast below. Maybe she never had a choice. Either way, you had a job to do. The plan was simple: you'd been in touch with Lily since you made landfall, first mailing her a sending slab, then using the paired tablets to convey codes messages etched in the wax surface. Tonight was the night. You'd meet her in a cistern under the main square where she'd give you her child, Holly. Baby in tow, you'd get out of the city that night using a Ring of Recall you had tuned to your home. Once you were safe, far across the Sea of Stars, you'd raise your adoptive daughter.

She'd never know the importance of her bloodline, or the terrible fate she'd been spared.

You jumped from the cart you rode in on, the less the people you trusted to get you here knew, the better. Worst case scenario they think you're a thief or something on a heist. In a way, that's precisely what you were. Your first stop was an alms-house you knew about. Old, run down, a den of disease and suffering the gentry and the guards all ignored. Nobody's asking questions about who comes and goes from there, even less in the dead of night. The perfect place to lay low until the right time. You took the opportunity while there to swipe a blanket or two. You weren't worried about disease, potions are cheap enough, and you only needed it to cover you from the grotty lodgings to the network of sewers and drains under the city.

So you sat. In that stinking hovel. Turning the enchanted copper ring that would get you home over and over in your fingers. It was probably worth more than the building you hid in, but only you new that. Lily had advised you to get one made, getting it bound to a spot so far away wasn't cheap, but it was doable and you'd paid for the best you could get.

The appointed hour drew close. Covered in blankets, affecting a hunch, you scurried down an alleyway to a loose grate. Amazing how nothing ever gets fixed in the bad parts of town, even after so long. The pile of blankets muffled you closing the grate behind you before stealing into the dark. You knew these tunnels. They were your favourite haunts as a teen, playing with your little sister, fantasising about getting away and growing old together. You both knew it couldn't ever be. The cistern was your home from home. You hung sheets from the ceiling once upon a time, dividing the upper level into rooms of sorts. The grating making up the floor stayed dry enough and with some blankets and rugs didn't even hurt your feet to walk on.

It was like you'd never left.

The blankets were still vibrantly coloured, if a little rat-gnawed at the bottom edges. Your blankets were gone, so you could see through the grate to the dark water glinting below, but you knew the layout.

Lily waited for you in the centre of the cistern, under the grate in the pavement that led straight down, the moonlight hitting her in a silvery beam as she cradled a swaddled bundle in her arms.

"Lily, it's me" you whispered.

Your sister turned. You could see her robe was open at the front, the infant in her arms latched onto a breast. Your eyes drew down to her belly, round and gravid

"You have another one on the way?" That wasn't part of the plan "I think I can recall with you both, but I'm not sure... Why didn't you tell me?"

Lily stood there. Silent as the grave. She started to chuckle "Put on your ring"

"What? That'll take me home, I need you to pass me Holly so she'll be safe"

Lily didn't meet your gaze as she handed you her baby. The infant fussed in your arms as her mother's milk was taken away

"I'll come back for you. I'll bring another ring." You put on the ring.

The world swam. You saw, for a moment, the morning sun of your home, but when it cleared you were back in the cistern, clutching the child. The ring was on your finger. It nearly worked. Why didn't it work?

Lily took the baby from you and looked into your eyes.

You screamed.

When you were kids, her eyes were hazel. The colour of evening sunlight on dry grass in a heatwave. Now they were a milky blue-white. Pinhole pupils stared into you.

"When you ran, they made sure to protect me. The masters wanted me to be their sacrifice, but I needed to keep the blood. When Holly was born, I became ready, but someone needed to take her place."

A wet hand grabbed you from behind. You tried to spin and hit it, but your head was still light and you stumbled. You fell to your knees, cutting your hands on the floor grating as a hand closed around your throat.

It hauled you up. You looked into the cruel amber eyes, wide glowing orbs set in a twisted face. It didn't have a nose, or brow ridge, its head was pointed like the mantle of a squid or a cuttlefish, but the most striking part was where its mouth would be. Instead of a jaw, there was a mass of squirming, writhing tentacles. It hissed at you as you glared at it, kicking the air, trying to break the iron grip on you.

It waved its other hand. Your clothing unravelled. The sending slab clattered to the ground, the ring still inert on your finger, everything else fell in rags to the grating below you. Being naked wasn't going to deter you. You clawed and scratched at its face and the arm holding you, nails sliding off the slimy skin.

It threw you. You slammed into a sheet and slid to the floor. It fell upon you. You were pinned.

A slick pair of hands prised open your legs. Your ankles were pressed either side of your ears. The tentacled face lowered to your cunt. The tendrils brushed against your sensitive skin as you tried to twist away from it. The first pushed into you, sliding between the lips of your cunt as it tasted you. The rest followed, squirming tentacles filling you, probing your insides. You could feel your body reacting, getting wetter and wetter as the unbidden orgasm built in your belly. You squirmed and whined, bent double by the unbreakable grip, a monster eating your pussy, not caring if you wanted it or not. Fleshy appendages squirming over every inch of your cunt, inside and out. It filled every corner with activity, from the probing at your cervix to the massaging of your clit. Every whimper, every twitch, it made sure to keep up, building your release higher and higher by the moment.

It finally let you cum. You felt yourself squirt into the wall of tentacles assaulting your pussy. More and more liquid sprayed from you as you moaned and cried, your legs shaking and toes curling. The monster didn't stop. It didn't even pause.

Over and over your aching body was forced to cum, each orgasm driving the fight from you as it wore you out. By the time it stopped, you were a gasping, panting pile of limbs. Your squirt dripping from between your legs and down into the city water supply far below you.

The monster reached into its sleeve and withdrew a wriggling leech-like creature. One hand held the lips of your cunt open as it dropped the squirming creature on your soaked pussy. It moved up you. Half-burrowing, half-swimming, it slid between the clenching walls of your cunt even as you tried to force it out. You tried to scream as you felt it pushing up your cervix, but all that came out was a lewd moan as your twitching cunt slammed shut over and over, driving itself closer and closer to another orgasm.

You felt it pressing into the wall of your womb, a stinging pressure as it drilled into the soft flesh. As soon as it stopped digging in to you, you felt a warmth pulsing from it. The pain in your belly turned to a pleasant numbness. The ache in your cunt and your stinging clit became a throbbing buzz. Your head spun again, getting lighter and lighter until it happened.

You clenched on air. Your legs shook harder as your heels planted, driving your hips upwards into a lover that wasn't there.

You couldn't stop it. You wouldn't want to. Over and over you came, the leech's secretions lighting your nerves on fire, flooding you with endorphins. The room defocused and your tongue hung from your mouth as you rolled this way and that. Your cunt leaked a cocktail of blood, girlcum, and the thick secretions of the parasite driving you mad.

A part of you knew what happens now. You'd seen the fate that befell the other women this happened to. The secretions from the leech would fertilise your womb, over and over. Every month you'd spill forth more of the leeches. The strongest would be chosen and either implanted into another woman, or allowed to squirm into a man's ear, turning him into another of the tentacled gods.

You knew your fate. The hated destiny of all of the eldest daughters of your line.

You couldn't be happier.

########################################

Postscript: Yeah, the bonus points for this was a harpy, but I went for the horrifying not-illithid cult instead. Maybe they'll be a thing going forwards, maybe they'll be another one-and-done. I do prefer the awful tadpole queen idea rather than elderbrains just crapping out more tadpoles, though wish I'd come up with something better than just ripping off ceramorphosis for making the drones.

Either way, hope you enjoyed, Anon, and again if anyone had any requests they wanted to send in, my hard limits are in the pinned, beyond that have fun

Post-postscript: I hope the exposition at the tail end didn't kill the mood either, I just couldn't think of a good way to shoehorn that in, and it felt too hot to just miss out entirely.

[ventique18]

🐉 heart-reacting pictures of you, that he himself took, that he himself sent to the Diasomnia group chat.

---

Lilia reacted 💚 to your photo.

🦇: You children are adorable. Let me guess: someone taught you how to react to photos and now you're spamming it?

Silver reacted 💚 to your photo.

🐉: Silver.

🐉: Why did you "heart" 🌸's photo? Are you trying to steal my beloved away from me?

⚔️: Apologies. I was just mimicking you and father.

Silver reacted 👍 to your photo.

🐊: STOP MAKING EXCUSES, SILVER! It is a grave sin to desire our king's chosen mate! BE LIKE ME, WHO'S NARY AN OUNCE ATTRACTED TO THAT HUMAN!

⚔️: Sebek... You should've stopped at... Well, just stopped before you started.

🐉: Are you saying my beloved is unattractive, Sebek?

🐊: I am not attracted to them, yes!

🐉: How dare you say that so boldly. Did you think I would sit idly by and watch you insult my beloved? Do you understand what sort of punishment this warrants you?

🐊: !!!

🐊: That wasn't what I

🐊: I WILL TAKE ANY PUNISHMENT, MY LIEGE! A HUNDRED LASHINGS, EVEN! Please, just let me continue serving you until my dying breath!!!!!!!!!!

🐉: Very well.

⚔️: Sebek, no! My lord, punish me instead. This conversation would not have happened if I didn't react with a heart to that photo... This is completely my fault. I beg of you to spare Sebek.

🐉: Hahaha. Calm down, I was merely pulling both of your legs. I would not harm you for something so trivial.

🐊: MY LIEGE!!!

Silver reacted 🥲 to your message.

Sebek reacted 😭 to your message.

🦇: My goodness. I was terrified for a minute that Meleanor was somehow possessing the internet.

🐉: So mother shared a tasteful sense of humor.

🦇: Bold of you to think your mother was being humorous. And you scared the boys half to death.

You reacted 🤣 to Lilia's message.

🦇: Stop using emojis. You're scaring me half to death.

[eldritchpotato]

First Contact

You're a renowned xenobiologist doing research on a remote planet. When quarantine is breached and you come face to face with some of the local fauna your life might never be the same, this new species has found the perfect home.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5.

Content Warning: alien smut, symbiotic/parasitic creature, female reader, corruption, brainwashing, body transformation, lactation, orgasm denial, oviposition, bad ending?

You weren't really sure what had happened until you got back to the station. The alarm still blared which was honestly more irritating than the breach of your suit.

Slamming the alarm off you kicked free of your space suit and held it up for inspection. The tear wasn’t large, maybe the width of your palm, but definitely enough to start losing oxygen quickly. It was lucky you were close to the base.

Then it moved, a shriek leaving your lips as you dropped it. Oh fuck, fuck fucking fuck there was something in your suit.

Holding your breath you waited, thankfully anything that could survive out there would be suffocated by the oxen-rich facility. When it stopped moving you slipped your oversized gloves back on and tentatively got closed.

Beyond the difference in atmosphere and the changes that caused, neither the fauna nor flora of this planet were abnormally dangerous. But you could never be too careful.

Slowly you picked up your space suit, trying to peek through the collar to see whatever it was. It promptly jumped right for you, warm grasping tendrils grabbing onto your head as it skittered for purchase. It was small and grey, oddly sticky and warm.

That didn’t stop you from slapping the thing off your face as hard as you could.

By the time you stumbled back and wiped your face the thing was nowhere to be seen.

“Oh fuck me,” you muttered, you were gonna be in so much trouble for this. But before you had the chance to initiate quarantine and the lecture from your boss that would follow it landed on your lower back.

You just managed to glimpse it slipping down your pants with an utterly odd flexibility in the reflection of the window before your fingers reached it. You scrambled to unbutton your pants, some old human saying about ants ringing through your head.

There were several things you were worried about, allergies, toxins, bites, stings, bacteria, viruses. So many reasons why you needed to get as far away from this thing as possible. It slipped down in an utterly invasive manner only to wiggle forward and press itself against your pussy was… well you didn’t even know how to react to something like that.

You froze like a statue at the sheer strangeness of it all. A suction against your clit jolted you into action to kick your pants off. But it was fast, faster than you could have predicted, its tendrils wrapping around your thighs, attaching itself to your body.

Sheer manic made you grab it, its coils only tightening around you in response, the suction on your clit becoming painful. You could feel something moving, its mouth maybe?

You tugged again, but it didn’t budge, the pain that shot through your clit dissuaded you from trying again. If you pulled on it, it pulled right back on your clit.

Horror thrummed through you. Nothing could have prepared you for this. This… thing was attached to your most sensitive area. How the fuck were you supposed to get it off?

It didn’t hurt, if anything maybe the suction was a little… nice. But you couldn’t very well go about your day with this thing suctioned to your body. It clung to you, covering your vulva like underwear though its soft tail dangled between your legs.

It didn’t look strong, but it was. You weren’t particularly keen on just waiting for it to finish whatever it was doing and detaching, because what the fuck was it doing?

Every muscle in your body tensed as something began to push inside you, both in your pussy and ass. Instinctively grabbing the creature only made it speed up, trusting some part of itself inside your body. It didn’t hurt, not really, it was just… 

“What the fuck,” you muttered, feeling far more full than you ever had before.

The worst part was that it didn’t feel entirely bad. The strange tingling feeling was quickly leaning more towards arousal. Helplessly your clit throbbed, the creature sucked.

You nearly fell over trying to sit down as the thing continued to… stimulate you.

It was impossible not to brace for something but nothing came. It just… rhythmically sucked on your throbbing clit, some part of it buried inside you. It was shocking how turned on you were. You were a well-respected scientist, no one could ever know about… this.

Slowly you stood, grateful that the thing did not impact your range of motion. Gently you brought your fingers down, attempting to wedge them between the creature and your skin. Its strange fleshy tendrils tightened around your hips almost in warning.

“Okay, not gonna do that then,” you sighed with a shake of your head.

Feeling somewhat in shock you headed for medical to get a scan done. At the very least you could figure out what this thing was doing and hopefully maybe how to remove it. Your bare feet pattered on the cool metal, the creature sucking on your clit happily the whole way there.

[aventurineswife]

Hi I have a request. I know your requests r closed but maybe you can do it when they reopen 😅. And if you can’t it’s totally fine too 😁

(This is going to be a bit of a yap warning before hand 🥲)

In the past I use to watch a YouTuber named Aphmau and she had a series named my street (it’s still really good you should go watch it!) and I was rewatching it since it resurfaced on my TikTok recently :DDD

As I was rewatching the show and just recently finished season 4 of my street and I also reread your story where reader gets captured and they were brainwashed and was forced to hate aventurine that’s when I got my request idea.

So in the second half of season 4, at this point 2 of Aphmau’s (the main character) friends were being controlled my a forever potion and they captured her and take her to the villain where she also gets controlled by the forever potion. Aaron (the other main character and also her lover/boyfriend) when to go save her and find out who is behind this.

So there are 2 scenes that are basically in going based off of. Scene one is where Aphmau has a forever pother and if forced to love the villain and then while Aaron is there splashed a forever potion to forced to hate him forever and also forced to kill him. Also while under the effects of the potion while she tries to kill him she uses his passed against him on how he was never able to make friends before he met her and other really nasty stuff she was forced to say.

The other scene is where toward the end of the season they created an anti-potion to remove the effects of the potion the villain created they removed the potion effect on the friends that were effected and this fried stray to save Aphmau but since there is 2 potions on her (one to love the villain and one to hate Aaron) it didn’t work and after Aaron defeated the villain (for now 👀) he went to find Aphmau to save her he reminded her and saved her using memories of them together before fainting. There was a lot more but that what I remember 🥲

For the request I was thinking that reader is Aphmau and the character is Aaron and maybe you can combine these scenes and maybe add your own spin on it :D! For characters I was thinking aventurine, Dan hang, phainon, maybe Sunday, and any other character of your choice :D

And if you really can’t do it I don’t mind don’t force your self to do it 🩵

- Starry Annon 🩵✨

“You Don’t Kill What You Love”

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Phainon x Reader, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Brainwashing/Mind Control, Enemies to Lovers (forced), Lovers to Enemies (temporary), Emotional Manipulation, Tragic Romance, Redemption Arc, Inspired by MyStreet Series, Past Trauma/Emotional Baggage, Heavy Emotional Scenes, Reunited Lovers, Action, Confrontation, Happy(ish) Ending/Bittersweet Ending.

Warnings: Emotional Distress, Depictions of Manipulation, Intense Conflict Between Reader and Their Partner, Flashbacks to Traumatic Events, Violence (Mild to Moderate–fights, not graphic), Mention of Mind Control/Gaslighting, Reader says cruel things while brainwashed, Crying/Fainting/Panic, Possible Dissociation or Memory Loss (temporary), Themes of identity, control, and regret.

A/N: I have heard of it but never got to watch it... 🧍‍♀️

You were no longer yourself.

The world blurred into hues of rose-tinted lies and venomous devotion. The forever potion worked quickly—sinking into your veins, drowning your memories, tethering your heart to a man who laughed like chaos and wore cruelty like a second skin.

The true you had once loved Aventurine. Not the image twisted by potion, not the monster the Order painted him as. The real Aventurine, who hid pain behind peacock feathers and bravado. Who touched your face like he didn’t believe you were real. Who gambled with the universe but never with your heart.

Now, you stood before him, blade in hand, eyes gleaming with hatred that wasn’t your own.

"You're nothing," you snarled. "A coward who hides behind luck and lies. You never had real friends, only pawns."

Aventurine didn’t flinch. But his smile faltered. His left hand twitched behind his back.

"Is that so?" he said lightly, but his voice cracked. "Then tell me, my dear... why do you hesitate?"

You lunged.

He didn’t fight back.

You slashed, and he fell to one knee, not from the cut—you missed, just barely—but from the weight of the moment.

"I remember..." he whispered. "The day we rigged the roulette table on Penacony. You laughed until your drink spilled. You said I'd never lose if I bet on you."

Your hand trembled.

He rose, blood staining his sleeve, eyes bright but raw.

"Remember the dance? Just us. No schemes, no bets. Just music. You said you felt safe."

Your pupils dilated. The haze flickered.

He stepped closer. "And the night you called me by my real name—Kakavasha. The first and only time. You kissed me like you meant it."

Tears welled in your eyes.

The hate potion began to crack.

You dropped the blade.

"Aventurine..." your voice was barely audible.

He caught you as you collapsed, unconscious but free.

He held you like a winning hand he never wanted to gamble again.

Dan Heng found you deep in the enemy compound, chained and cloaked in darkness. Your eyes, once a source of comfort, glared at him with an icy detachment.

"You came," you said, voice dulled by potion-driven venom. "I hoped you'd stay gone."

His heart clenched. He remembered you laughing on the Express, stealing glances over tea. Your shared silences. The rare smile that reached your eyes.

"This isn't you," he said softly.

"No, this is the me who sees clearly now. You never trusted anyone. Not even me. Always running. Always hiding. You're pathetic, Dan Heng."

His breath hitched, but he didn’t move.

"Maybe I am," he said. "But even if you hate me... I still remember."

He stepped forward. You struggled. Fought. Cursed him. And he took it all.

"I remember the garden in Xianzhou. You made me touch the flowers. Said I needed to believe in softness."

"Shut up!"

"And the time I stayed by your bedside, afraid you wouldn’t wake up."

You hesitated.

He reached into his coat and took out the bracelet you made him—weaved in your favorite colors.

"I kept this," he said, placing it in your hand. "Even after you forgot me."

Your breath caught. The spell fractured. Tears streamed down your face.

"Dan... Heng..."

You fell into his arms.

He held you tightly, forehead pressed to yours.

"You came back. That’s all that matters."

Phainon stood among ruins, heart aflame with desperation. You were up ahead, draped in gold-touched cloth, a cruel imitation of your former grace.

Your sword glowed with Titan-forged malice.

"Deliverer," you mocked. "You're no hero. You were just lucky. Always hiding behind fate."

He didn’t answer.

"Say something!"

"I won’t fight you," he said gently.

You lunged. He blocked, but barely. Not because he was slow, but because he wanted you to win if it meant saving you.

"You said we'd face everything together! You LIED!"

"I was afraid. Afraid I'd lose you if you saw the real me."

Your blade stopped.

He reached out, ignoring the sparks between you.

"You remember the Coreflame trials? How you laughed when I slipped? The look in your eyes when I held you after? That was real. You said... you said I'd never fall alone."

You gritted your teeth. Then sobbed.

The Titan’s corruption burned away, light cracking through the potion's illusion.

"Phai..."

He caught you.

"You're safe now," he said, voice breaking.

You whispered, "Don’t let go."

"Never."

You were a prisoner of paradise.

Sunday found you suspended in the Sweetdream illusion, loving the enemy and cursing the stars.

"They won’t wake up," said the Interrogator in his mind.

"They must," said the Answerer.

You turned to him with unfamiliar disdain. "I thought you were different. But you're just like them. Cruel, detached, a coward in philosopher's clothes."

His breath trembled. "I deserve that. Maybe more."

You stepped forward. "Your dream was to save everyone, but you chose control over love."

He fell to his knees, wings folding in. "Then let me dream one more time. Of you. Of us. Before the illusion takes you forever."

He pulled out the dove feather—a remnant from Charmony.

"This dove," he whispered, "was the first gift you gave me. You said it reminded you of peace. Of hope."

You flinched. The potion trembled.

"Do you remember singing beneath the starlight? I do. You were off-key. It was beautiful."

You blinked. Eyes clearing.

"Sunday... I..."

He caught you as you collapsed.

The illusion shattered.

His arms cradled you as tears fell silently.

"Even dreams must wake," he murmured.

"But I’m glad it was to you."

[cowboy-knight]

Listen, hear me out. Knight brainwashing.

Say it's a captured knight from a foreign kingdom. The gut reaction is to imprison and torture him. But that sends the wrong message.

Instead, coax him. Strip him of his armor and honor, feed him well, and robe him in the finest silks. Have your new consort wait by your bedside, let him be achingly hard, but don't let him cum until he submits to you. Every night, have him look into a spiral that one of your court magicians created, and watch the brains drain from the warrior. Perhaps you have your own magic, allowing you to reach into his head and pick out the thoughts you don't want any more.

With in the week, he stops demanding his armor back. He just wants to see the pretty spiral. The death threats against you no longer

Within a few months, you'd be surprised at how such a man has changed. No longer does he sing odes to his old lord, instead he pressed his head into your thigh, eyes wide with want. No longer is he the terrifying knight of the north, strategic genius, he barely can put on his own armor.

It also doesn't help that you've made sure he's taken care of. This new knight... well consort, can't remember the taste of rations. Every morning, the man has make up and other forms of beauty products applied, making him look delicate compared to his old self. He still works out of course, you want to admire the body which now worships you in every way you ever thought possible. But he does it now in your name. The only thoughts that you allow in that empty head is the devotion to you and when the next time he's going to feel good.

Then, you invite his old lord. You show off your new prized consort. You make a whole show of how he can no longer recognize his old comrades. Becouse then, you have your new knight. You have your new sex toy, your new devoted follower. And the spite from his comrades fuels you.

[bimboothefool]

Hi!! Can I request a yandere Emil and Ada x gn reader? Maybe how they met the reader, how will treat them if they ever abduct them, up to you!

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐏𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐇𝐂’𝐬

Oh Yes you may and I had to rewatch their introduction trailer just to get a good feel of their personalities. Hopefully you’ll enjoy these headcanons Anon! ^7^ 🩷 Happy Halloween to you all, hopefully this halloween was great and you got a bunch of treats or atleast had fun!!🎃🎉

Warning this story isn't suitable for an audience of 17 & younger.

This story contains the following subject matters: Drugging, Gaslighting, Possessive & Manipulative Behavior, Kidnapping, Brainwashing and Forced Marriage (???) If you click read more you've consented to reading this story.

- There’s two possibilities they’ll meet you, You’re either Ada’s coworker/psychology nurse or are a patient like Emil.

- If you’re Ada’s coworker, she’ll often observe how you behave, what your quirks are and overall take in as much info about you as possible.

- Ada falls in love with seeing how devoted you are to making sure the patients are comfortable and safe. Every time to obediently follow her orders or trial behind her, her heart skips a beat.

- She also takes into account how your relationship is with Emil, sometimes leaving him in your care as she quickly “attends” to other patients.

- Emil would at first be weary of you, but soon warms up to you. He’ll cling to you often wanting to lay his head on your shoulder or lap.

- Emil grips onto your hand, trailing behind you like a lost puppy. He craves your attention and affection.

- Emil falls in love with how gentle and kind you are to him. He’s been so deprived of it, finally getting it is like finding cold, crisp oasis in a cruel, hot desert.

- Ada seeing how well you take care of Emil, involves you in their escape plan. Basically feeding you half truths and getting you coaxed into this plan.

- If you don’t agree and stand your ground, she drugs you and takes you with her. Emil clings to your unconscious form immediately, hugging you close. Wanting your warmth as Ada drives.

- Now onto if you’re a patient like Emil, he’s pretty antisocial during his time at the asylum. Barely talking to anyone else, you showed him a sliver of kindness, he’s practically attached at the hip with you.

- Often seeking you out and asking where you are. Wherever you go, he follows right after you.

- Ada seeing this change in behavior does a bit of bargains with the higher ups and is soon assigned as your psychologist.

- She’s very intrigued on how you operate as well. Learning every intimate detail about you.

- Ada proposes the idea of taking you out of this place, proposing you’re better off with her than in here.

- She’ll again just kidnaps and drugs you if you say no.

- Now onto how they both treat you after you’re abducted for both scenarios.

- If you resisted, when you wake up, you’re tied up. Ada knows how clever you are and isn’t taking any chances. She knows that using a different method on you into making you love both her and Emil is her top priority along with helping Emil.

- “Don’t worry my love, soon you’ll see things our way. For now rest up.” Ada looks down at your restrained form.

- When the hypnosis results start to stagnate, she knows they’ve yielded incredible results. ‘ Maybe, just maybe they’ll work on you. ‘

- So now you’re apart of her tests, your backbone is forcibly ripped from you. Your autonomy is taken from you piece by piece.

- Emil helps out by constantly being beside you, seeking you out frequently and offering you comfort and security. Feeding you the idea that he nor Ada would never hurt you. They want you to be as free and happy as they are.

- After many tests, you finally crack and often needing to be close to Ada or Emil. If both they’re both around, the merrier your time is spent with them. You crave their attention at first. But slowly you needed their love.

- Ada and Emil’s love becomes your addiction, their kisses make your knees buckle, their embrace keeps you grounded and it all felt so right.

- The once loud voice screaming for you to run and hide, starts to get quieter and quieter. You don’t want to run from your beloveds. They’re your lovers, why would you run from them.

- Ada and Emil have shown you what true love is. They would never hurt you. Ada and Emil love you and you love them.

- If you went along and complied, Ada uses this to her advantage. Using Emil as a way to tempt you to not defy her. Emil isn’t innocent, he plays along and amplifies how he needs you too. Having without you, means he’s incomplete.

- With time it does its twisted job, you fall in love with Emil and soon Ada. You look forward to their kisses, the nights where you cuddle eachother.

- You all practically are each other’s entire world, you know even death won’t make neither of you part.

- This is true love, the pinnacle of pure, unconditional and unadulterated love.

- In both scenarios, when you all receive an invite. When both Ada and Emil, propose to you. Your heart is beating with sick joy. First a getaway from this life you’ve outgrown and now being engaged to the two people you clutch onto dearly.

- “Paradise… Here we come.” You smile with broken delight. You now have rings on both of your ring finger. This is the start of a new chapter, with your new wife and husband.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝

𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐨𝐧 | 𝐭𝐢𝐩 𝐦𝐞 | 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 | 𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐬

[usetheeauthor]

Kinktober Day 3: Brainwashing/Reprograming

Pre-War!Ghoul-ish!Cooper Howard x Reader

Summary: Cooper sure loves you; his little vaultie wife. Too bad you have no clue that you’re actually not the only two people left in the world.

Warnings: 18+ , non con mind control, implied age gap, gaslighting, manipulation, dub con kissing

A/N: I imagine Cooper in this in between his ghoul form and human form and the ghoul form is slowly corrupting his mind.

You don’t remember what life was like before “the blank” or the period in which your vault had been attacked. But by the time you came to, everyone in your vault was long gone. Dead? Alive? You aren’t sure. Not a single corpse or evidence of their existence has been recovered. All you remember was a bright flash of light and suddenly you were alone in the arms of a man you hardly knew.

He says he’s your husband who’s been searching for you for years. He says he loves you. That he’ll protect you. And you surely do believe those things but…something about him just feels like he’s hiding something. But all he’s gotta do is say a couple magic words and suddenly you don’t care to question him. Maybe you just love him all that much that nothing he’s hiding matters.

It is much better when you aren’t questioning things anyway. He’s much more affectionate when you don’t resist.

“Little wifey,” Cooper calls out as he comes through the doorway of the little pod home you shared. You rush into his arms, beautiful blue and white sundress flowing behind you. “There ya are, sugar. Missed me?”

“Of course, I did.” You say, holding him tight. “I was so lonely. Every time you walk out that door, I worry you’ll never come back and that I’ll be alone again.”

“Not a chance,” He says kissing you on the forehead. “I’ve searched all this way for ya darlin’. Nothing can keep me away from you. It’s just you and me against the world.”

“What’d you get this time?” You beam.

“I got you this purdy little necklace you can wear.” He holds up the chain with a small ruby pendant on it.

The souvenir looks familiar and the moment you touch it, flooding memories of a woman in authority washes over. You clutch your head in pain.

“You alright, darlin’?” Cooper asks. He touches your forehead with the back of his hand, checking the temperature.

“W-where’d you get this?” You ask fearfully while cowering away. “Why does it look so familiar? Like it belonged to someone I—ow!”

You hold your head once again, squatting as you buckle under the weight of your rapid thoughts. Cooper snaps his fingers and you instantly tense, looking up at him as your mind suddenly goes empty.

“Evergreen,” He says and your body loosens. It’s that magic word. The one that makes you feel at ease and then everything goes back to normal. But little did he know there’s a resistance within you this time, one that fights for you to seek the truth in your situation. “I’ll be putting this necklace around you, sugar. You’ll behave, won’t you?”

You nod mindlessly.

“Good girl,” He coos. “Up on ya feet.”

You obey, waiting on his next command. He does a spin gesture with his pointer finger and you oblige, back facing him. He pushes your hair out of the way, draping the necklace around your throat then clasping it closed.

“When I count to three and yours eyes are on mine again,” Cooper begins, whispering in your ear. “You’ll be my sweet little wifey again. 3…2…1.”

He snaps again. You blink rapidly looking around the room in confusion then down at your necklace with a smile. You spin on your heels to face him. “It’s beautiful, Coop!”

You kiss him and he cradles your face so gently in his large hands. “I love you so much.”

“Love you too, sweet pea.” He smiles.

He’d been a little risky offering you something that could have easily reminded you of your overseer. That would have been two years of properly training you as his good girl down the drain, if he hadn’t thought quickly on his feet.

But he can tell you’re succumbing to his love slowly but surely . Soon there would be no remembering the past and no more questioning things. Just you and him as it should be.

You pull away from kissing his full lips, caressing a hand over the ghoulish half of his face. It looks as if it’s spreading more and more as the days go by. Cooper doesn’t show it much but he’s insecure about his fading human form and in the back of his mind he fears you’ll find him repulsive and leave. And sure he could just make you fall in love with just the snap of his fingers. But if there’s a chance you could love him naturally without all the extra steps, he’d be more than overjoyed.

His breath hitches when your lips delicately graze web-like textured skin, showering him in soft kisses.

“Could I go to the storage area for some cake? I’d like to have some before bed.” You say, fingers interlocked behind the back of his neck.

“Too much sugar ain’t enough for mine, I guess,” He chuckles. “Long as you come back to me, you can eat all the cake ya want.”

“Yes, my husband.” You say as the dutiful, doting wife you are. Satisfied with your answer, he releases you.

Once you’re out of his grasp, you quickly scurry out and try to locate your nearest exits. You’ve been planning this escape for a long time: training yourself to resist his words, drawing and mapping out the facility’s square footage whenever you could, and finally waiting for him to come home so you could sneak the key fob from his pockets.

There were just too many clues. The blood on his shirt despite not having any wounds and the items he gifted you from time to time; you two weren’t actually the only ones on earth and you needed to get away from this man or who knows what he plans to do to you.

You stumble upon a locked room somewhere down a dark corridor, darting your eyes around to ensure Cooper isn’t around. Breaking the handle with a nearby fire extinguisher, you enter what looks to be an office.

From the information you’ve gathered based on the scattered paperwork, you were one of the scientists of this specific vault. A vault specialized with retaining war information from former war veterans. You gasp once you stumble upon Cooper’s file and the missing pieces of your memory slowly assemble accordingly. Your vault has conducted inhumane experiments on him and the other veterans from injecting them with radiation to test the effects on them to brainwashing.

Things came to a head when Cooper Howard set out of a pressurized blast within the vault that knocked you out as you were the only one furthest away from the site while the remaining of your crew got completely vaporized. The vault opening allowed for the traumatized veterans to eventually escape though Cooper stayed behind.

“I-I was the monster,” You whisper to yourself, tears streaming from your eyes. “No…I am a monster.”

“You’re nothing of the sort, sweet pea.” Cooper says from behind you. “You couldn’t help what you’d done. You were only doing your job. I never wanted revenge when it came to you. I just wanted to show you real love.”

“Is that why you’ve been hiding this from me? You wanted to protect my feelings?” You cry into his arms.

“I can make it stop hurting, ya know. We can go back to being just you and me. Forget the world out there.” He whispers.

“I’d like that. Please make me forget.” You plead.

“Of course, darlin’. Anything for you.”

Cooper cups the back of your head, his biggest ring digging into your scalp as he plants a passionate kiss on your lips. He lowers you on your back against the desk behind you. You surrender happily, smiling into the kiss and feeling safe.

You’ll never again part from him and Cooper’s, oh so, glad that you finally understand this. Maybe he hadn’t told you the exact truth you were searching for but he’d set things up just nicely for you to feel as if it were that way. The room was staged. Everything was staged, in fact, and there were no such things as the veteran experiments. But you don’t need to know any of that. He wouldn’t even begin to tell you the crazy things he’d done just to have you. All you needed to know was that Cooper would do anything to ensure that you remain by his side.

And, well, if you didn’t stay beside him, luckily he’ll always have a way to track you down.

[sergeantbuckybarnes]

i’m slowly being pulled into the john walker side with y’all beautifully well written fics and i’m not sure i can fight it forever 😭😭

[kabr0ztrousers]

Kabr0z Writes Episode 17: Fae Deal, part 2

Find part 1 Here! You'll want it!

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes Anthology here!

CWs: noncon; dubcon; double vaginal penetration; loss of control; multi-penetration; group sex;

A/N: This one ended up being much shorter than expected, probably because all the setup was yesterday. Ah well

#######################################

You stumbled on. Half pushing half carrying, the Prince brought you down the stairs. The Wylde Hunt was arrayed in the hall below, a dozen pairs of eyes on your naked body as you staggered on shaking legs. Their faces were sharp, their eyes cruel. You couldn't help but obey as they grasped at you, pulling you this way and that, groping at your bare flesh.

They pulled you up onto a table and looked you over. One pulled open your mouth, pushing three fingers down your throat and making you gag. They laughed as tears started to roll down your cheeks. You were pulled onto the lap of one of the Fae. He pushed himself inside you as one lined up behind. You cried out as both cocks fucked your pussy at once, frotting against one another inside you. Another penetrated your ass, yet another thrust down your throat, filling you completely up with a cacophony of cocks, each pounding hard into you. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you coughed up mouthfuls of slick drool. You could feel every inch of both cocks in your pussy, every vein and bump pressed into your soft walls. Your punished cunt was clenching in a neverending orgasm, driving waves of pain and pleasure through you. Your moans and cries muffled through the cock thrusting in your throat, barely audible over the jeering of the Fae around you and the wet slapping coming from your overstuffed cunt.

The Fae below you pushed your pussy harder, cumming into you and driving his partner over the edge, lubing each other with their mingling cum before they pulled out, swiftly replaced by another of the Hunter's fist pounding into you. The one in your ass came next, his seed leaking out of you before another Fae took his place and fucked it back in. Next your throat was filled with hot cum, the Fae thrusting down it even as he pumped it into you before he too was replaced by one of his fellows.

Over and over they had their ways with you, every time one pulled out of you he was replaced by another. Every one of your holes was full, dripping cum and slime as your orgasms caused your body to pulse and throb, only leading to you oozing yet more onto the table and floor.

The Fae started to tire. Or they simply got bored of you. You were left alone on a table. Bare and dripping you started to recover yourself. You could feel the flood of cum in your ass and your womb, you could taste the stickiness at the back of your throat. You closed your eyes, grateful for the rest. After changing your body and taking your will, you dreaded what the denizens of this unfamiliar place would do to you next.

The Prince of Spring approached you again.

"Sit up, pet. Now we've broken you in, I can put you to use"