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judesdrabbles · 1 month ago

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The Cure (part 1)

Hello everyone, this will be the first part in my series ‘The Cure’, featuring my oc Vincent. This fic is quite slow, since I want everything to go quite gradually. I hope you guys enjoy. <3

yan!psychiatrist x reader

PART 2 / PART 3 / PART 4

word count: 1K

warnings: reader is afab, obsessive tendencies, reader has anxiety, Vincent is extremely apathetic here

Pens were portrayed in a neat line on his desk, next to his patients files and some square glasses. They were clean. Polished. Just how he liked it.

People always find things to obsess over. It’s only natural. Otherwise, you’ll get bored. Silly teenage girls and their crushes on fictional characters. The insecure male finding validation in the stock market. The lonely, middle aged woman and her fascination with her neighbor. The old man and his collection of train models. Obsession was the thread that tied humanity together.

Vincent understood this better than most. If obsession were an art, he would be its most devoted patron.

There was never a quick spark of interest for him. There had never been a ‘phase’ of anything. Because if he was interested in something, he would become consumed by it. Wanted to know everything about it until it’s laid bare, plucked dry of everything it once contained. He wanted to know, to understand.

Nothing is casual for Vincent.

That said, not much interested him either.

‘Um.. sir?’

The man, who is supposed to be your new psychiatrist, seemed to jump up from his thoughts and glances over at you. You were standing hesitatingly in the doorway.

‘I’m sorry, but patients are supposed to be waiting in the waiting room.’ The man says curtly. His dark eyes seemed to flash in annoyance.

‘Oh- Yeah, I know.’ You say, laughing nervously. ‘But I had an appointment at five, you see? It’s already thirty minutes past..’ You stay quiet for a bit. ‘And, uh, your door was open..’

The man looks over at a watch on his wrist. She was right. It was already 5.30. How could he be so careless? He gently takes the glasses from his desk and puts them onto his nose. He clears his throat and walks over to you.

‘Forgive me, Miss..?’

‘Y/N.’ You answer, pressing your lips together. ‘I hope those 30 minutes don’t get charged.’

He shakes your hand and a small smile forms on his lips. It was a cold smile. It didn’t reach his eyes. ‘Dr. Vincent, pleasure. And no, of course not, I’ll make sure of it.’ He gestures to a seat on the opposite side of his desk. ‘You can sit there, if you’d like. Or you can sit on the couch, if you’re more comfortable there.’

The office of Dr. Vincent was .. lavish. Only one glance and you could see that this guy had some money, were it to be for either the polished leather chairs, the hard wooden floors or the tall book shelves that covered the walls. And everything was neat. Almost too neat. It made you feel bad for coming in here with your normal sneakers and clothes instead of dressed up in a formal dress and heels. Especially since the psychiatrist himself seemed to dress impeccably, too.

‘I’ll sit on the chair, thanks.’ You say as you sit down. ‘It’s a nice office you have here.’

Dr. Vincent rubbed his hand on his suit, as if he just touched something dirty, and sat down opposite of you. ‘Thank you, Y/N.’ He answered. ‘Now.. it was a few days ago that I got your file in. I understand that you were referred to me since your old psychiatrist retired, hm?’

You nod. She had been such a sweetheart. You almost wanted to quit therapy all together when you heard she would retire. But she got a replacement. A new psychiatrist, moved from another town.

‘Yeah. We don’t have a lot of therapists or psychiatrists here, so I was genuinely shocked when they said there was a replacement.’

Dr. Vincent chuckles. He had his hand neatly folded in his lap, all the while looking at you. There was a slight flush on your cheeks. Nervousness? You didn’t seem nervous. Or were you good at hiding it?

‘Tell me what you worked trough with your previous therapist, Y/N.’

Dr. Vincent’s stiffness made you a little uncomfortable, and he seemed to notice that. He smiled reassuringly, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes again. Was he bored?

‘We worked trough my anxiety.’ You say, looking past him since his dark eyes seemed to pierce trough you. ‘Social.. situations and stuff. How I can handle it.’

Dr. Vincents eyes seemed to light up with newfound interest. ‘Right. Did you feel like you made progress?’

‘I mean, I am here, talking to you, a stranger. That’s something; right?’

He nodded, though his thoughts began to stray. He didn’t get many patients in his old city. And the ones that did come, were boring. They were like the wallpaper in his office. Unremarkable- fading into the background of his mind.

Again, nothing really interested him. Not the common patient that came in with relationship problems. Not the grieving mother. No, he didn’t worry one hair on his head about it. The pens on his desk interested him more.

‘Seemed like you made some good progress, then. I hope I can become more for you than just a stranger, though. Otherwise these sessions might prove challenging.’ He says.

You chuckle softly. ‘Time will tell. Need to decide if I like you or not.’

Dr. Vincent’s eyebrow raises. A sudden spark in his eyes appeared, again.

There was something about you.

Something that intrigued him.

‘I’m sorry, it was a joke.’ You say awkwardly when he doesn’t respond. He just chuckles.

‘I’m not offended, don’t worry.’ He remarks, his voice low and measured. ‘In fact, I value honesty. So, please, tell me more, Y/N..’

#yandere #yandere x reader #oc x reader #yandere oc #yandere doctor #yandere character #yandere imagines #vince my oc

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judesdrabbles · 1 month ago

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The Cure (part IV)

As you agree to go home with Vincent after a rough night, things unfold differently than you thought they would.

PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3

A/N: this is the last part of the series! I’ll continue to write other one shots / headcanons / series for Vincent and other oc’s, so if you have any suggestions or commissions don’t be afraid to ask! <3

word count: 2.5K

warnings: nsfw!!, yandere, obsessive tendencies, sexual themes, misuse of power position, foul language, afab reader, fingering, overstimulation

The hum of the car engine was a low, soothing backdrop as Vincent drove trough the quiet streets. You stared out the window, watching the city lights blur together. The adrenaline from earlier had faded, leaving you with a hollow ache in your chest. The remainder of the alcohol in your system was wearing off, too. In summary: you felt like shit.

Vincent glanced at you, his knuckles tight on the steering wheel. 'You're quiet.' He says. 'Are you alright?'

You hesitated, biting your lip. 'I don't know if 'alright' is the word I'd use. Tonight was embarrassing. Humiliating.'

His brow furrowed. 'You have nothing to be embarrassed about. What happened tonight was out of your control.'

You shook your head, still staring out the window. 'No, it’s not just that. It’s the whole reason I even went out tonight, you know.' You pause. 'Vincent, I've been stuck in this.. rut. So I thought, why not? Go out, have a few drinks, meet someone, and well, maybe even-..' You stopped yourself, your cheeks heating up as you realized what you were about to say to your own psychiatrist, none the less.

Vincent's eyes flicked to you briefly before returning to the road. 'Maybe even what?' He asked. He knew exactly what. He just wanted to hear you say it.

You exhale sharply. 'To- uh.. get laid. Forget everything for a while.'

The silence that followed was deafening. You glanced at him, unsure of what to expect. His jaw was clenched, and his hands gripped the wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white. He didn’t speak for several long moments, and when he finally did, his voice was low, almost strained.

'And, did it work?' he asked. 'Did you.. find what you were looking for?'

You let out a hollow laugh. 'Obviously not. I ended up in a dark alley with a creep instead. Guess that's what I get for being desperate.'

Vincent didn't have a lot to remark. You didn't expect him to.

The rest of the drive was oddly quiet.

'We're here.' Vincent said after a while, parking his car in his driveway and turning off the engine. He led you into his spacious house, a place so pristine and meticulously arranged it almost felt cold. Every detail was flawless: the lines of the furniture, the faint scent of wood polish in the air, the sharp angles. It felt like him- controlled, ordered, and yet, beneath it, something kind-of human, if not a little fractured. 'I'll get you some water. Go sit, I'll be back.'

The hollow ache in your chest tightened up again as you look at him walk to the kitchen.

Why did he care so much?

It was like everything hit you all at once.

He was just your psychiatrist.

Why did he even invite you in the first place? Fight that random man? Why was he quiet whenever you talked about your love life? He always seemed to go out of his way for you. He was a cold and stoic man. Then why does he care so much? He wasn't supposed to.

You sit down on his couch as you stare at the walls. You feel like you could burst open.

And then was that guy, that guy from the alleyway.. Why didn't you do more? Scream louder? Why did you freeze back there?

'Here is your wa-'

'I let it happen. Why did I just let it happen?’ You blurt out.

Vincent stops in his tracks, standing still with two glasses of water in his hands.

'I'm sorry?'

'I let it happen- I..' You stand up. 'I didn't do shit. I could've screamed, I could've kicked. I was frozen. I was useless.. What kind of person just.. lets that happen, Vincent?'

Vincent puts down both of the glasses on a nearby coffee table. Then, he walks over to you.

'Don’t do this. Don’t twist this around and make it about something you did wrong.' He says sternly, his voice piercing trough you. 'You didn't let anything happen. You were scared. That’s normal. That’s human.' He drags a hand through his perfectly combed hair, mussing it in a way that looked unnatural on him. 'You’re not a machine, Y/N. You don’t have to be perfect, to know exactly what to do in any situation.’

'Perfect.' You echoed bitterly. 'That's funny coming from you.' The words tumbled out before you could stop them. Vincent expression shuttered, his lips forming a thin line.

'I know what you're trying to say.' He says, his voice tight but still calm. 'And, yes, you're right. I.. do like to have everything.. perfect. I used to think that was the only way I could keep everything under control.’ He glances around the neat room, the perfectly arranged books in the bookshelves; the tables empty, no dust; everything spotless like no one lives in his house. ‘But it doesn't work like that.'

You feel tears bubbling up. No. Not now.

'Why do you even care so much anyway, Vincent?' You let out. 'You're my psychiatrist, for Christ's sake. I'm not supposed to be here. Were not.. supposed to have this conversation.'

Vincent's eyes flickered with something, and for a moment, you thought he was going to walk away.

'Because I care about you, Y/N.’ He says after a while. ‘Not only during our sessions. Outside of it. More than I'd like to admit. More than I should. And more than is.. appropriate. I wish I could have control over that instead. But I don’t.’

Your breath caught in your throat, his confession hanging in the air. You furrowed your brow and stand up, walking over to him. You look up at him. He looks down at you. And for the first time since you met him all those weeks ago- you see something else in his eyes.

Insecurity.

'Oh..' you let out softly. Everything suddenly made sense.

You let him see you- know you. Week after week, you had laid open your feelings, all your secrets, bare to him. Only for him to unfold. Only for him to hear. And he was always there. Not only during your sessions, but after. When your car broke down, when a shady guy followed you, when you needed him- he was there.

'Y/N.' Vincent whispers softly, as if trying to pry you away from your thoughts. 'Will you let me show you how much I care?'

You were dumbfounded, but on the other hand, relieved. The hollow ache in your chest slowly disappeared on itself.

You nod slowly. ‘Okay.. Show me.'

The words seemed to break something in him. He got rid of the only space left between you, raising one of his hands and resting it softly on top of your cheek. His thumb brushed across your skin, holding you like you were something fragile.

This is what he had wanted. You were so perfect.

His resolve crumbled as he leaned in. His lips were tentative at first, brushing against yours as if testing the waters. But the moment you responded; tilting your head and getting closer, something in him snapped.

He cradled the back of your head as he pressed his lips against you. It was warm. Persistent.

With an undercurrent of desperation.

You kiss him back, clutching on his shirt as his other hand rests on your back, his thumb tracing soft circles against your skin, anchoring you to the moment. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breaths ragged. 'Tell me to stop,' he murmured, his voice hoarse. 'If this isn’t what you want, tell me, and I’ll stop.'

You shake your head. 'Don't stop. Please.'

Something in his eyes lit up when he heard you say 'please'. In that sweet, sweet voice. It was dangerous.

His hands tighten on your waist as he as he pushes you softly on the couch with him. You had never expected him to be this gentle.

But he was.

Only for you.

He kisses you again, and this time deeper, more insistent. With one hand cupping your cheek, he breaks the kiss apart to look at you. He was hovering above you, while you were basically melting into his touch.

'Y/N.' He says softly, as if tasting your name. 'You are so beautiful like this.' His fingers brushed over your cheek; you were getting red, panting softly.

There was so much that you wanted to say, yet you couldn't. Vincent's dark hair was disheveled and looming over you. He had always been handsome. You just never let yourself accept that.

'I don't know what to say, I-..'

'Shh, shh.' He said, pressing a finger to your lips. 'Then say nothing, sweetheart. I'll take care of you.'

His lips find your neck, nipping softly at it as he draws out a moan from your mouth. His hands find the hem of your sweater, slithering under it to grip on your soft flesh. His fingers were so gentle- so skilled. His eyes find its way back to you as his hands go higher, up to reach your breasts. He brushes softly against your nipple, as you let out a whine. Shit- It had been way too long since someone touched you. But no one ever touched you like this. Looking at you like you were literally the last woman on Earth, like there was only you. Time seemed to blur, the world outside fading away until there was only Vincent- the way his body fit against you, the way his whispered assurances made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you could let go of the doubts and let yourself be wanted.

'You're so gorgeous when you moan for me,' he says as he gets bolder, pinching one of your nipples between his fingers. He never wanted to let go. Never wanted to get off off you again. What did he do to deserve such a perfect woman, right here, on his couch?

'Vincent- fuck..' You let out when he rolled your nipples between his fingers again. 'Please don't stop- I.. I really.. want you.'

'Hmm?' A smirk on his face appeared. A genuine smirk. 'You're begging already? That's so sweet.' He leans in, bites softly on your earlobe and then whispers: 'I won't stop, okay? I'll make you feel so good. You deserve it.'

One of his hands stayed clasped around your breast, fondling it and teasing it while the other went out from under your sweater to your pants, unzipping them. 'Up.' He just says. You comply, and he takes off your pants until you're left on his couch with only your underwear covering you.

His other, warm hand disappear from your breasts and you're left with a cold feeling. 'Vincent..' You didn't care that you were sounding whiney. You wanted this man.

'Shh, I'll come back. Don't you want me here, too?' He says, smiling as one of his hands cup your heat. You blush; you were already basically dripping, and he didn't even touch you properly yet.

'Mhm..'

'Good.' He presses a soft kiss on your forehead, then lowers himself to line up his head between your thighs. He looks up at you, his dark eyes piercing trough you like knives. While planting soft kisses on your inner thigh, he lets his hand roam to your pussy. He was not pulling your underwear back. Not yet. He finds your clit and start to rub circles trough the fabric.

You moan loudly, feeling embarrassed as you try to cover your mouth He knew exactly what he did.

'No, no, no..' He says, taking your hand away gently while continuing to rub your clit. 'Don't. I want to hear you.'

The wet patch in your underwear only grows as Vincent finally decides to take it off, to stop the teasing. 'May I?' He says as he slips it off, hovering over your heat with his mouth.

You nod quickly. 'Yes, please.. you make me feel so good.'

A low groan escapes Vincent's mouth. 'Darling, you have no idea..' He delves in, starting to suck on your clit while tasting you.

You tasted so divine- How could he go his entire life without seeing you like this, melting under his touch, moaning under him? Where were you all this time? Oh, he'll make sure to make up for the lost time. It's the least he could do for you.

His mouth latched onto your clit. It made you tense, pleasure building up as one of his fingers start to tease your wet slit. He ate you out like you would expect him to: methodically, rhythmically. All the while keeping eye contact. Staring at you with dark, lust-filled eyes.

Two of his fingers push past your slit as your walls clench around it. You felt so warm- so good. Whenever his tongue wasn't lapping up your juices, he would repeat quiet praises to you.

'You are doing so good for me, sweetheart. You're so beautiful. You'll cum for me, hm?'

And then you felt it approaching, rapidly, like a dam breaking.

'Vincent- I'm gonna cum..-'

'Cum for me, sweetheart.'

You pant as your walls clench around his fingers. You cum all around them as Vincent continues to eat you out to prolong your orgasm. It was nothing like you had ever felt, and when you came down from the high, you felt your muscles relaxing and you let out a long sigh.

Vincent kisses your inner thigh before licking off your juices from his fingers, savoring the taste. He then sits down next to you on the couch, his hands wrapping around your waist, tilting you up to sit on his lap. Your wet cunt stained his perfectly neat pants, but he didn't mind. Not if it was you.

'I could get used to this.' You say after a while as he runs his fingers trough your hair. You hesitate, but then you lay down on his chest, your arms wrapped around his shoulders.

'Mmm. You better.' He says, his voice low. He had you. Finally. Right where he wanted. In his arms. In his home. Together. He kisses the crown of your head.

'Never knew my stoic doctor would be such a good kisser. On both lips.' You tease softly, feeling a certain something grow in his pants.

'Oh, yeah?' He gently tilts your chin towards him. 'Well, there are more things I'm surprisingly good at. Let me show you, hm?'

He wasn’t done with you yet; far from it. He was only done when you were a limp mess on his couch, and then he would continue to finger fuck you while you whimpered desperately on his lap. He wanted you to think of him, and only him, nothing and no one else.

‘Ah, hush, sweetheart. You can take more.’

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