#thought i would be so thirsty for someone's arms

[softiedingo]

Javier's arms make me feel so feral, I mean, they look strong enough to break me in half 🥺🔥

[gloomwitchwrites]

okay okay okay here we go,

The reader who has a very sensitive neck. even a breath hitting her neck affects her. (They can be in a relationship or not, however you like)

Thank you🩵

I won't lie to you...I made this one a little spicy. Not full on mind you, but there's some heat below the break. I couldn't help myself. I really couldn't. You said "sensitive neck" and my brain said "write something thirsty because you deserve it." And here we are!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, dirty thoughts, kissing, possessive behavior, mild sexual content, mention of alcohol

Word Count: 1,200

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“Excuse me?”

The pint pauses just shy of John’s lips. He turns toward the unfamiliar voice, finding a stranger standing next to him. Your voice is laced with desperation, and you keep turning your head with a nervousness that instantly puts John on alert.

Someone is harassing you—bothering you. Making you feel uncomfortable. Doesn’t matter that you’re a stranger, no woman should feel backed into a corner.

You lean into him a bit, lowering your voice. “Can you pretend like we’re together?”

John won’t make you ask twice.

Sliding his arm around your waist in an intimate embrace, John tucks you into his side, using his body to create a shield from the rest of the bar. With your back to the room, your gaze is on him, and anyone looking would only find a couple in a relaxed hug.

John dips his head forward, closing the space until it appears as if the two of you are heading for a kiss. You fluster slightly, smile softly, turn away as if embarrassed. Inwardly, John is grinning. You’ve been in his arms for all of five seconds but you fit so perfectly.

“Who is it, love?” he asks, breath ghosting across your skin at your exposed throat.

You shiver—whimper. Not in distress, but with pleasure. It’s probably the alcohol in his blood that makes him bold—that makes him push a boundary.

“Who?” he asks again, this time tracing down your neck to the hollow of your throat.

It happens again, but instead of pulling away, you snuggle closer to him. John suddenly doesn’t care who it is that’s been bothering you unless they show their face. You’re an interesting creature. Sweet. He can see you fitting into his life.

What does he need to do to possess you?

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“You’ve been a bloody tease.”

A rising wave of possession wells within Simon, threatening to drown him. When he wants something, he puts every effort into obtaining it. Right now, that something is a someone. And that someone is you.

You glance over your shoulder and scowl. That pouty lip sends blood straight to Simon’s dick. That mouth would look so perfect suctioned around his cock, licking over his skin, opening wide to show him how good you are before you swallow. Simon fucking dreams about it. It’s an obsession.

“Hardly,” you scoff. “Think you can’t take a hint.”

“Funny,” mutters Simon, leaning in until the two of you are close enough to tease a kiss. “You were the one in my bunk, playing with yourself when I walked in.”

“I told you,” you growl. “I thought I was in mine.” You glance away, clearly too flustered to look him in the eye. “Thought I was alone.”

“Sure, love.”

“I got confused in the dark!” you protest, attempting to move away from Simon.

Simon steps in front of you, forcing you to stay pinned against the wall. There was no mistake. The hallway is lit up enough that any numpty could navigate.

“You meant to be there,” he croons.

You fluster further, and Simon grasps the side of your face, tilting your head back. His thumb brushes against your neck, and you shiver. It’s not a slight thing, but a tremble. You’re sensitive here. Simon notes this. Saves it for later for when he gets you under him.

You lick your lips, pausing a moment before answering. “Maybe.”

Simon smiles, knowing he’s victorious. He gives that gorgeous throat of yours another light brush of his finger. This shiver is stronger. Simon nearly groans.

Blood rushes downward, and a plan forms.

John "Soap" MacTavish

It’s a quick tug. A dark corner.

Johnny pushes you against the brick wall at the mouth of the alley, caging you in from the eyes of the nearby street. There’s a buzz beneath your skin from the alcohol you consumed at the pub, and Johnny’s nearness only quickens the sensation. Just as his hands are on your hips, your hands are on his shoulders, pulling him in as close as physically possible. The smile on Johnny’s face is electric and it only fuels your own joy. This date is amazing. A firecracker of an evening.

Lips brush over yours, featherlight. You arch into him, wanting more—needing more. It’s an inherent reaction. Primal. Dirty. There is nothing you want more than for Johnny to push up your skirt and have his way with you in the dark alley.

With a squeeze of his hand, Johnny closes the distance, sealing your mouths together in a passionate desperation. The two of you have kissed before, but it’s always been at the end of your dates. Chaste and cute and nothing this wanton.

Another kiss. Another. A nip at your bottom lip. A suckle.

You whimper, and Johnny groans, nuzzling the side of your neck. His warm breath dances over your exposed throat, and you moan, body shaking with pleasure.

“You sensitive here?” chuckles Johnny. He runs his tongue along your neck. You let out another little gasp. “You are,” he breathes, like the idea excites him.

Johnny teases your throat, bites lightly, pulling forth a mewl. You’re incredibly wet between your legs, aching with a dreadful need.

“I need,” you gasp. “I need—”

“Me?” he croons, and you nod eagerly, fingers digging into his shoulders.

Johnny’s Scottish lilt becomes gravely. “Then turn around,” he growls. “And lift that fucking skirt.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Shit,” you mutter, tugging on the harness buckle.

The thing is stuck, and if you don’t have yourself strapped in before the helicopter takes off, you’re prone to flying headfirst into the floor. These things are fickle. At least they are when you’re attempting to strap yourself in.

You tug on it again, but it hardly budges.

“Why does this always happen to me?”

“Struggling again?” comes a familiar voice.

Kyle steps up into the helicopter, grinning as you continue to tug on the buckle like that will magically fix everything.

“Well this is embarrassing,” you groan, dropping the damn thing.

Kyle laughs, bending forward to keep his head from smashing into the ceiling. He shifts over a step so that he’s in front of you. Even though he’s wearing sunglasses, you feel his gaze roaming over you and then the harness setup.

“Sit back for me,” he says, kneeling in front of you like a man proposing.

You obediently do, allowing Kyle to fuss about, tugging on the straps. His lips purse slightly as he snags the one giving you trouble. He pushes up. Leans forward. You’re momentarily startled as Kyle cages you against the seat, his arms behind you.

“Lean forward a bit,” he says.

It means your forehead rests against his shoulder, but you do as he instructs. With head still bent, Kyle messes with something just out of sight. You lean to the right to allow him a bit more clearance, and that’s when his breath ghosts over your exposed throat.

It’s a tender caress, making you visibly shiver.

“You good, love?” asks Kyle, and again, his breath brushes against your skin.

You have to force down a moan.

I’m trying hard to ignore how horny I am, sergeant. Thanks for asking.

“I’m fine,” you reply.

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @suhmie @z-wantstowrite @kylies-love-letter @keiva1000

@iloveslasher @ravenpoe67 @sadlonelybagel @nishim @arrozyfrijoles23

@voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @sageyxbabey @glassgulls @miaraei

@weasleytwins-41 @eternallyvenus @chaostwinsofdestruction @cherryofdeath @ninman82

@fern-reads @waves-against-a-cliff @beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx

@jianyi22 @sethell @atpeacee @konigssweatyhood @dreamingoftomorrow

@katerinaval @morguethemagpie @galactict3a @sarah-the-bird-nerd @mikachu-bitez

@unclearblur @kurochan3 @sans-chara @all-by-myself98 @hisuccubus

@km-ffluv @thriving-n-jiving @carbonnite-copy @sobbangchan @codeseven

@youre-a-wallflower-charlie @tiredmetalenthusiast @sporadicpizzainternet @tessakate @mistresssolana

[kryllia]

Mine to Protect, Mine to Own

art from pinterest

yandere mafia classmate x reader

Pt 1 - Pt 2

Nicolò Dellabarca had always been a mystery.

You weren’t close. You had only worked together on a class project once. He was efficient, quiet, and surprisingly attentive, but the partnership ended without much conversation.

Still, something always felt off about him.

He was cold with others but different around you. He never spoke unless necessary, yet his presence loomed over you like a shadow. Whenever you turned your head, you found his sharp blue eyes watching you, unreadable but focused.

At first, you ignored it.

Then, small things started happening.

One night, when you were leaving campus late, a stranger had followed you for a few blocks—until a black car pulled up, and the man suddenly disappeared. The next day, a few guys from your class who had been bothering you stopped showing up. And once, when you almost tripped on the stairs, Nicolò had been there, catching your arm before you even realized he was close.

"Careful."

His voice had been deep, steady. He had let go quickly, looking almost flustered.

You should have put the pieces together then.

But you didn’t—until the night you were taken.

It happened fast. A car pulled up. A group of men stepped out. Before you could scream, a hand covered your mouth.

You fought, kicking and struggling, but everything faded into darkness.

Your first thought upon waking was: This is too comfortable to be a basement.

A thick blanket covered you. A fireplace crackled nearby. The room smelled of expensive wood and something faintly floral.

For a second, you thought you were dreaming—until the door opened.

"Mom, what do you mean you have a surprise for me? It better not be another—"

The voice stopped.

You turned your head—and froze.

Nicolò.

His blue eyes went wide. His usual cold expression shattered, replaced by something you had never seen before: panic.

He slammed the door shut behind him.

"Mom..." His voice was sharp, but there was something almost desperate beneath it. "What did you do?"

From behind the door, a light, cheery voice replied.

"Oh, relax, sweetheart. I just helped you a little."

Nicolò let out a shaky breath. "This is not helping."

He turned back to you.

You met his gaze, your body rigid.

"...What the hell is going on?"

The door opened again, and a woman stepped inside.

She was beautiful—dark-haired, elegant, and radiating control. She held a glass of water and smiled at you as if you weren’t just kidnapped.

"You must be thirsty," she said, offering the glass.

You didn’t take it.

"Who are you?"

Her lips curled. "You can call me Isabella. I’m Nicolò’s mother."

Your stomach twisted.

"And why did your men kidnap me?"

She sighed as if this were a mild inconvenience. "Because my son is terrible at taking what he wants."

You turned to Nicolò, waiting for him to deny it.

He didn’t.

His fists clenched at his sides, his breathing shallow.

You took a slow step back. "You let this happen?"

"I—I didn’t know—" He cut himself off, rubbing his face. "Mamma, why would you do this?"

Isabella chuckled. "Oh, Nicolò, don’t be so dramatic. You were never going to make the first move, so I gave you a little push."

You scoffed. "Push?! You kidnapped me!"

Isabella tilted her head. "And yet, you’re perfectly safe, aren’t you?"

Your blood ran cold.

She stepped closer, her voice soft but firm. "Do you know how many people have been watching you? Waiting for you to be alone? Do you really think walking home alone at night was ever safe?"

You swallowed hard.

She smiled. "You needed to be taken, darling. If not by us, then by someone worse."

You clenched your fists. "That’s bullshit."

Nicolò finally spoke, his voice low. "It’s not."

Your chest tightened.

You turned to him, searching his face. "Then let me go."

His jaw clenched.

He didn’t answer.

Because you both knew the truth.

There was no leaving.

-

The Dellabarca estate was suffocatingly grand. Every hallway was lined with paintings, every door guarded.

And now, you were seated at an impossibly long dining table, facing the people who had stolen you.

Nicolò sat stiffly at the head of the table, shoulders tense. Across from him sat a man you had yet to meet.

Giovanni Dellabarca.

His father.

The room felt colder with him in it. His presence was overwhelming—calm, composed, and dangerous.

"So," Giovanni finally said, swirling his wine. "You have fire. I like that."

You set your fork down sharply. "I don’t care what you like."

Nicolò inhaled sharply beside you.

Giovanni smirked. "Feisty. Just like your mother, eh, Isabella?"

His wife chuckled. "Oh, absolutely. I see so much of myself in them."

Your stomach churned. "I am nothing like you."

Isabella smiled knowingly. "Oh, but you are." She leaned in slightly. "You think I wanted this life? That I chose it?"

You stilled.

"I hated Giovanni at first," she continued. "I fought, I screamed, I ran—but in the end, I understood."

She turned to her husband, her gaze softening. "Love in this world isn’t sweet. It’s fierce. It’s possession. And once you understand that..."

She looked back at you, her expression almost pitying.

"...it’s easier."

Your hands shook.

Giovanni exhaled, setting down his glass. "You’ll come around. She did."

Your skin burned with anger. "I am not her."

For a moment, Giovanni studied you.

Then—unexpectedly—he laughed.

Nicolò stiffened.

"You know," Giovanni mused, "when Isabella first entered my life, she hated me just as much as you hate my son now."

You clenched your fists. "Good."

His smirk didn’t falter.

"Yet, here we are."

Your blood ran cold.

Nicolò suddenly stood. "Enough."

Giovanni’s brow lifted. "Touched a nerve?"

Nicolò’s hands curled into fists. "They don’t need to hear this." His voice was sharp, controlled—but his eyes flickered with something desperate.

He turned to you, his voice lower. "Come on. I’ll take you back to your room."

You hesitated.

Then, without another word, you followed him out.

As soon as the door shut behind you, Nicolò let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his dark hair. His shoulders, always so rigid around his family, slumped slightly.

"Dio mio, that was a disaster."

You folded your arms. "That’s an understatement."

He turned to face you. For the first time since you woke up in this house, he looked directly at you—really looked at you. His piercing blue eyes, usually so cold, held something else now. Something desperate.

"...Are you okay?"

The words were so quiet, so gentle, they made your stomach twist.

You wanted to lash out. To scream at him. To tell him no, I am not okay, you psychotic bastard—your family kidnapped me!

But something about the way he was looking at you—like he was hurting just from seeing you upset—made your breath catch.

You clenched your fists. "...No. I’m not."

His jaw tightened. His hands curled into fists at his sides like he wanted to punch a wall—or worse, like he wanted to hold you but didn’t know if he was allowed.

"You—" His voice caught. He exhaled through his nose, composing himself before trying again. "You don’t understand."

Your eyes narrowed. "Understand what, Nicolò? That you let your mother steal me? That I’m being held hostage in your house?"

His expression twisted.

Then, before you could react, he moved.

Fast.

He was in front of you in an instant, his large frame towering over yours. One of his hands slammed against the door beside your head, caging you in. The other reached for your wrist, wrapping around it—not tight enough to hurt, but firm enough that you couldn’t pull away.

You sucked in a sharp breath.

His eyes, those sharp, ice-blue eyes, burned into yours.

"You think I wanted this?" His voice was low, rough, almost shaking. "You think I wanted them to touch you? To take you before I could—before I—"

He cut himself off, his breath ragged.

You swallowed hard. "Before you what, Nicolò?"

His fingers twitched against your wrist.

His lips parted like he was going to answer—but he hesitated. His breathing was heavy, his jaw tight.

Then, quietly—so softly it sent a shiver down your spine—he whispered:

"Before I could make you mine."

Your stomach dropped.

His grip on your wrist tightened slightly, his thumb brushing over your pulse. He could feel how fast your heart was racing. His expression darkened, something dangerously close to satisfaction flickering across his face.

"You don’t get it, cara mia." His voice was almost gentle now, a sick contrast to the possessiveness dripping from his words. "You were never safe outside. They were watching you. Waiting for an opportunity."

His free hand rose, his knuckles grazing your cheek.

"I was the only thing keeping you safe."

Your breath hitched.

His fingers trailed down to your jaw, tilting your chin up so you couldn’t look away.

"You hate me now," he murmured. "That’s fine. You can hate me all you want." His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, slow, deliberate. "But you belong to me, whether you like it or not."

Your entire body tensed. "I belong to no one."

His expression flickered—hurt, frustration, something deeper—but it was gone in an instant. Instead, his lips curved into something that made your blood run cold.

A smirk.

"Say that again in a few months," he murmured, voice almost teasing. Almost sweet.

He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear.

"We’ll see if you still believe that then."

And just like that, he let go.

You stumbled back, heart hammering, but he just straightened his posture, rolling his shoulders like nothing had happened.

His cold mask was back in place.

He turned away from you, walking toward the door.

"I’ll have someone bring you food," he said casually, as if he hadn’t just claimed you as his own. "Get some rest."

You gritted your teeth. "I’m not staying here."

Nicolò stopped.

For a moment, he didn’t move.

Then, slowly, he turned his head to the side—just enough for you to see the dangerous glint in his eyes.

"You don’t have a choice, amore."

And with that, he walked out, locking the door behind him.

This is inspirated by c.ai bot and it was made by @Strawberry_88

[ubeb0nes]

Getting jealous (AGAIN) as Sevika's girlfriend...

you just can't catch a break, huh? your fault for falling in love with this absolute lady-killer

༇༇༇

༇༇༇

a/n: ever since i remembered i have free will and can post all my sevika goblin thoughts i have been cooking entire posts up in like under an hour, somebody please help me LMAO

i had too many ideas for the jealous!reader, so here's another. i picture this as being my pit fighter!reader characterization, so do with that what you will :33

it isn't that you hate absolutely anybody looking at Sevika at all

like, you get it. and a part of you loves that everyone else can see just as clearly as you how absolutely captivating she is.

BUT IT GETS TO A POINT-

After the incident with the girl at the bar, Sevika does her best to make sure that you don't feel neglected in public. She slips, of course she does, but she does try like hell

It typically goes that anybody who approaches her, flat out doesn't acknowledge you. it's a by-product of how she's so non-PDA that it slips the mind of these thirsty women that she's even in a relationship

You, being a practical and results-driven individual, remedy this by being a little bolder in public every now and then

Nowadays, Sevika doesn't usually object. She understands why you're doing it now, and she's getting tired of the would-be homewreckers coming onto her too lol

You'll cup her cheek, give her a firm but quick kiss whenever you bring a drink over to her while she's in a game of cards. Come up beside her at the bar and rest your hand on her hip for a while (she fucking loves this one, she won't tell you though)

From then on, people start to get the message. If anybody's heartbroken over it, they become less inclined to showing it

So, you almost want to believe you're imagining things when you clock someone from across the bar who seems to keep giving you the stink eye

you're not dumb

you can see the way she's gesturing between you and Sevika to her friends, shaking her head in disgust. now that's a new one...

Sevika has her human arm over your shoulder while this is happening, the other holding onto her hand of cards. She looks over at you when you pluck the cigarillo out from her fingers and take a drag of your own in distress. She's deeply amused by this

"Okay, baby?" "Mhm. Peachy." You were not peachy. The hell did you do to deserve that look?

For a second Sevika thinks you're mad at her, frowning and angling her body towards you (she notices Ran trying to sneak a look at her cards as she does, and bucks playfully at them). Her eyes flick up to follow your line of vision, and then she understands

She chuckles under her breath.

"You could take her in a fight, princess."

oh, and don't you know it. You shake away the thought though, not wanting to escalate the situation in your head in the case that it's actually not at all what you think it is, and then you look stupid

You ask Sevika if she wants another whiskey and she declines, so you get up to just get yours. You're minding your business by the bar, trying to not grace that table with any more glances when that bites you in the ass as a shoulder checks yours

of course, it's the girl. I guess it wasn't in your head

You make eye contact with her when she looks over her shoulder at you and scoffs, shaking her head. You don't look away even as the bartender slides your drink into your hand

now, you have some options here. most of them include violence to some degree. you're contemplating them all as you're walking back to Sevika, eyes straight ahead

then you catch a few choice words from her table; something, something, "-can she fight..." you don't hear the rest, but does it really matter?

you stop in your tracks. you glance up at your girlfriend who didn't see what happened earlier but is watching you now, brow raised and mouthing what's wrong?

at this point, i don't think this even counts as jealousy, you're just defending your woman's honor

you give her a shake of your head that says don't worry (and now she's definitely worrying), and turn on your heel and make a beeline for the bitch's table

Sevika is about to get up to back you up- for whatever the situation may be- when she sees your posture as you stand over the girl from earlier.

Ran stops her though, grinning from ear to ear. "Let your girl have this, Sev. I wanna see her beat ass." Sevika scoffs, but tentatively sits back down. She trusts your judgement. Whatever your call is-

oh, you're smashing your glass over the girl's head. Ran gives a loud whoop

"You wanna take her from me? Go ahead, try," you'd said while Ran was talking Sevika down. The smile on your face was near-manic. "See what she does when you put your hands on me."

It's not like this woman was exactly tiny or helpless-looking; most in Zaun strived to be neither. But Sevika hadn't been lying when she said you could take her.

It was not a memo she'd received, though.

You couldn't recall what exactly she'd said, but you do know your mind reached an immediate state of singularity when she said she'd kill you before Sevika could do anything about it.

BET

"Goddammit-" Sevika barks out your name as she shoots up from her chair. Ran is doubled over with laughter

She's deceptively fast for her height, and thank fucking god for it. Her human arm wraps around your waist like a vise, pulling you back with ease

She would've been cutting up right with Ran in any other circumstance, given the way you were stancing on the now-dazed woman, fists clenched and shoulders shrugged up like an angry big cat

"Down, girl," she mutters to you. Her lips quirk up at the way you shift your jaw around, obviously still pissed off and ready to scrap

"I was defending your honor." "Mhm. What would I do without you, huh?"

Sevika's in front of you when the woman scrambles up out of her seat to retaliate. Sevika towers over the both of you, and you're nearly completely hidden behind her now as she glares at the woman

"You don't wanna fight her, much less me. Go ahead and clear off."

Maybe jealousy isn't as accurate of a term for you as territorial. You've got nothing to be jealous of, not with how fiercely devoted Sevika is at every turn

[ozzgin]

OZZ OMG OMG OMG THAT YANDERE PRISON THING OMG OMG OMG

*jitters with excitement*

I NEED MORE AHHHHH IT TICKLED MY BRAIN THE RIGHT AND WRONG WAY AT THE SAME TIME

Like if you're nice they'll just become your dogs and if you're not nice they'll give you a very rough foursome I'm down for either OMG OMG OMG help I have problems

To quote Markiplier: "I'm not a masochist, this is about power"

*drops dead*

*instantly revives*

Ahem, I saw you mention you might come up with small plots, so I'll do the logical thing to try to inspire you:

- clueless darling ask the leaders about their gangs and whatnot. Like nonchalantly. Because they're too nice darling thought it's no big deal lol

- darling subconsciously avoid blonde man (even tho he is my favourite hahah) after seeing him beat up the guy

- darling got drunk (somehow in a prison) and either gets horny (and try to let it out under the blankets forgetting they got roommates)or innocently touchy hugging all three of them and poking their unique features, sitting in their laps and so on. Or better yet, touches/approaches other inmates in front of the roommates...

content: gender neutral reader, alcohol consumption, NSFW below the cut!

Inmates are creative. They will always find a way around the rules, and this time it happened to be a rather clumsy attempt at brewing alcohol. Had this been discovered by a guard, whoever concocted the beverage would've landed in detention.

Instead, it was you who found it, innocently assuming someone must've forgotten their water behind. You gulped down the clear liquid, thirsty after you walk, then promptly grimaced at its unexpected bitterness.

Safe to say you're now quite drunk.

That in itself would already be troublesome enough, but another thing is endangering yours and everyone else's peace: you're in a particularly flirty mood.

"What the hell are you doing?"

The officer's smile drops instantly, and he turns towards the deep voice. One of your criminal roommates glares at the sight with hollow eyes. You were clinging to the officer's arm, a dumb grin plastered on your face. The man in uniform quickly shoves you aside, his features pale and drained.

"It wasn't me who started it," he pleads.

You're quickly picked up by your bunkie, who is still staring at the guard. He won't be leaving this prison alive, that's for sure. Now, however, his priorities lie somewhere else.

The hallway spins as you're being carried away, and you shamelessly cling to your ride, feeling and groping the muscles and tracing along his tattooed skin.

"My God, at least wait until we're back to our cell," he groans with flushed cheeks.

The blonde one is trying to play it cool. Come, now, you're obviously out of it. He needs to be mature and tuck you in, or something along the line.

Easier said than done, especially with a raging boner. You're quick to notice it, and you certainly don't hesitate to point it out, making lewd gestures with your hands as some sort of offer.

"Are you sure you won't regret it tomorrow?"

"Hey now, I'm drunk, not unconscious," you bark between hiccups.

He may have interrogated you further, but the thought of your pretty little mouth struggling to take him in is too much to bear. He's essentially drooling by the time he pats his knee for you to come over.

The pierced one drops you on your bed with a flat expression. Annoyance? A closer look at his pursed lips, and one can tell he's really just struggling to maintain his composure.

"Please, I really need to-"

You hold him back by the arm and bat your eyelashes. In return, he clicks his tongue. Is this some sort of test from above? His beloved Darling is essentially begging to be fingered. Yet, he shouldn't be taking advantage of your state. He shouldn't...

Too late. You gasp at his rough fingers making their way in.

"Alright, don't be too loud," he concludes with a faint smirk.

The masked one gently places you on your bed, then plants himself before you with crossed arms.

"Nonsense. You're drunk."

"I mean it", you repeat yourself.

He does his best to look imposing. Truth be told, his knees weakened from the moment "fuck me" slipped out of your mouth. He gladly would, but he has morals. Well, when it comes to you, anyways.

Your pout seems to suggest this would be a long standoff. He sighs, then pushes you back onto the mattress.

"How about this? I'll take care of it," he explains quietly, his cloth hovering above your groin. "I'll be awaiting your offer again once you're sober."

For now, his tongue will have to do.

[Yandere Prison] | [More Yandere Stories]

[stillwatervoid]

Do you have any Mark headcanons? If yes please share :)

Heeey! So, I’m not sure if there’s a specific ‘right’ way to do headcanons, but here’s my take on it:

Mark Grayson is basically a "friends to lovers" kind of character. It doesn’t matter if you’re childhood friends, met at school by chance, or bonded on the field as heroes (if reader has powers)—if you’re friends, he’s eventually going to fall for you.

The thing is, he doesn’t even realize it at first. He’s just used to feeling light and warm and happy around you. That’s just how it is. That’s just how you two are. The feelings are there, shimmering quietly beneath the surface, but he’s either too oblivious to notice or actively ignoring them—thinking it’s easier to let them sit there, harmless, until they magically fade away.

Except they don’t go away, and every brush of your fingers, every quiet laugh, every lingering look leaves him spiraling—his heart stumbling, his thoughts a mess, his words tripping over themselves. And eventually, after weeks of denial, of pretending he’s content to remain just friends, Mark finally admits to himself that his feelings go far deeper than that.

And oh, he’s so down bad.

When Mark Grayson falls, he falls hard—and once he stops ignoring it, he’s not subtle about it either. He’s suddenly offering to carry your stuff, always walking close beside you in the hallways, casually throwing his arm around your shoulders while you’re talking, sliding his hand around your waist when you’re chatting with someone else—little touches that linger just long enough to mean something.

Just enough for you to start noticing.

Just enough for you to start returning the favor.

Mark nearly faceplants into the pavement when you kiss his cheek goodbye after school for the first time.

“What—what was that for?” he stammers, mouth dry, cheeks flaming red like he’s about to combust on the spot.

You huff a laugh, clearly enjoying how flustered he is.

“It’s payback,” you say, a teasing glint in your eyes. You’re thinking of all the times he got a little too close, held you just a bit too tight, gently nudged you when someone else had your attention—like he couldn’t stand not being the one you were looking at. Like he needed to remind you exactly where you belonged. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, Grayson.”

That shuts him up real quick—but it leaves him reeling. And absolutely ready to make his next move.

Mark Grayson kisses like he’s starving.

Yup, that’s right. I’ll say it here and I’ll scream it in every piece I write.

Mark Grayson 🗣️kisses you 🗣️like he’s 🗣️ starving 🗣️ 🗣️

When he finally confesses, when he finally admits what’s been building inside him, and you—oh thank god—you return his feelings, the kiss that follows is desperate, hungry, and filled with everything he’s been holding back for so long.

His hands are shaky and unsteady, but it’s clear he’s been waiting for this moment longer than you realized. Every inch of him buzzes where he touches you, like he can’t contain it anymore. His lips seek yours with an urgency that takes your breath away, his hands trembling as they pull you closer, pressing you into him as if he’s terrified he's dreaming or something.

And despite all his nervous, jittery energy, Mark devours you.

He makes all kinds of sounds when he kisses—groans, sighs, low hums that vibrate against your mouth. His tongue searches, teeth nip, and the wet, messy sounds filling the room would absolutely make you blush if anyone else ever got the chance to hear them.

Mark kisses you like he’s thirsty. Like he’s hungry. Like you’re the last bit of air left on Earth.

And sometimes, yeah, you genuinely have to stop him before you black out.

“Mark—mmh—Mark, I need—” you mumble, half-laughing, breathless, trapped between his arms and the mess of his bed. “I need to breathe, babe. I’m not—mmh—I can’t hold my breath like you.”

Yeah, he needs a daily reminder that you’re just human and your lungs can’t handle what his Viltrumite ones can. Mark can hold his breath for hours if he needs to. And if you could too? He’d be kissing you until your lips went purple, until they were swollen and bruised and completely wrecked.

And let’s be honest—he’s not the only one starving.

You kiss him back like you’ve been waiting just as long.

Like you’ve been hungry too.

Mark Grayson takes you flying wherever you want, whenever you want.

Just being able to call you his boyfriend, to say your relationship is official, isn’t enough for him. Not even close. Mark can’t help but go above and beyond to prove—over and over—that he loves you every single day. Because as much as he tries, his hero life always pulls him away. He’s constantly injured, constantly exhausted, constantly needed somewhere else. And it’s not like you hold that against him. When you said yes to dating Mark Grayson, you also said yes to dating Invincible—and you’re not backing out now.

Still, he hates when plans get canceled, when hangouts have to be rescheduled, when he finally climbs through your window only to find you already asleep, waiting for him until you couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore. So he does what he can to make it up to you, to make it unforgetable.

When he can make time, he takes you to places you’ve only ever seen in movies. In under six months, you’ve visited half the globe. Breakfast in Italy, lunch in Egypt, dinner in Seoul. Mark makes a habit of picking you up, arms sliding around your waist, and asking, “What do you fancy eating today?” like it’s the most casual thing in the world.

And when you spot a cool place online, you don’t even have to finish the sentence.

“Hey, Mark, there’s this new themed café in Japan. You think we could—”

“Yes,” he answers before you can even finish, already lifting off the ground with you scooped in his arms. “Let’s go right now.”

You barely have time to grab your jacket.

That’s how he is with you—immediate, eager, shamelessly in love.

If you want something, Mark is already three steps ahead trying to give it to you.

Flying with him becomes your new normal—not just for spontaneous getaways or international dates, but for the quiet moments too. Sometimes, when you're hunched over your desk, buried in homework or stress, he just shows up at your window, a soft tap against the glass, and before you know it, he’s convincing you to join him in the sky for a quiet moment alone. Mark treasures these moments more than anything. Just the two of you, alone above the city, with only the stars as company. Your head resting against his, temple pressed to his, as the world below fades into nothingness.

Because while Mark may not always have the time to give you during the day—between his duties as Invincible, the injuries, the endless missions—he has enough to give you at night. And he hopes that these quiet, stolen moments under the stars will somehow make up for all the things he can’t be there for.

[prettealolilol]

i like to think about the duality of the kids about people shipping Bruce with anyone, because the guy has been elected as the most handsome man in the country for years, has this whole playboy Brucie persona and is often seen with someone at his arms (men and women)

on one side, they'll be like "ew god no, i do not want to imagine dad like-" and "oh my god some people actually ship Bantman and Joker wtf ??" and they'll do their best to filter every social media to avoid any thirsty or shipping content about Bruce

when the press ask them about it, they be like:

Tim : "Would you like it if I asked about your thoughts on your dad cheating on your mom with his secretary ? No ? Then mind your own business." when the dad was in fact cheating with his secretary and now everybody knew because Tim was live when he answered

Jason, pulling out a gun : "i swear to god i'll shoot the next person who asks me this and then i'll shoot myself. Ugh, do i look like i fucking care about the old man's sex life ?"

Dick, smiling uncomfortably : "i don't really live at the manor anymore and i barely see him with my job so you know..." when it has been in fact a week he's been sleeping at the manor after patrolling with Batman

Damian, frowning as usual, looking at the guy who asked him as if he did not have a brain : "Father is careful in not mixing his carnal activities with the family life so i do not have any hindsight on his sex life. i do not wish to know regardless." the journalist is taken aback by the explicit answer of this ten year old, while his brothers are trying not to laugh behind him (Jason was not hiding his snickering)

on the other side, you cannot tell me those guys are not the biggest shippers in the world

like Jason would want Batman to date Wonder Woman just so she could be his step mom. i strongly believe the guy has a ao3 and tumblr account and is very much active on both. he definitely reads batman x green lantern fics just to annoy Bruce (even though his dad has no idea, but still gets shivers when Jason is reading one)

Dick and Duke both ship SuperBat although for different reasons. for Dick, that's his uncle there, he was there when they met and saw them as they slowly became best friends. he strongly believes they are made for each other. Duke just think it would be super cool (no pun intended) if the Superman and the Batman were dating.

Stephanie just likes to roll with it, some days she feels like shipping superbat, others she'll be more into batcat, or batlantern. she's pretty volatile and doesn't really have a favourite, but when she gets into one she's all in. she'll be arguing and insulting people online who disagrees, sharing crazy theories...

Cass doesn't really care, she'll listen to any of her siblings ranting about their thoughts (especially Steph) and juts find it adorable (and funny how much they care)

Tim probably ships superbat because they are completely opposed, and he finds the parallels really interesting. he definitely writes fics (Jay reads his fics and they exchange about it without knowing it's each other)

Damian doesn't really see the point. but he has drawn of few fanart (Jason tried to bribe him with money once and Damian had to remind him of his inheritance) when Bruce benched Tim and him and he ended up drawing some batlantern that Tim printed and plastered all over the manor. Bruce had to restrain the access to the printer (Tim hacked into it the next day)

Barbara, although she doesn't really ship, is the one you go to if you search some content, she'll find you the most heart wrenching, 200 thousand words, slow brun, angst/comfort fics you'll ever read (the type of fic that changes you deep into your soul). she still likes debating with the batkid

Regardless, if there's one things they all agree on, it is Bruceman (love those fics were the batkids just go along with it). like it's hilarious but the fans make some pretty good points and they are in fact impressed. it's also the safest ship as it would not happen in any situations so they don't have to worry about their dad being stolen

[spicyspiders]

something that never existed

Francis Mosses x male reader smut

1.4k words

This is really dark. Francis gives the reader a bottle of milk that makes him feel funny, follows him home, and then takes care of him.

It hits you during the middle of your shift. You aren’t sure of what, but the feeling of it has grown more intense each hour since it began. Pushing through the double doors is harder than when you did it this morning, your arms feeling heavy. 

The cool evening air against your skin nearly has you moaning. Your skin burns, and the refreshing air makes you want to tear off your clothes. Each step against the pavement feels heavy as you slug your way to your home. If you were a passerby, you would probably be annoyed hearing the loud sound of your shoes against the sidewalk, but even though the noise filled your ears again and again, you could also hear the quieter steps of someone behind you. 

Someone fucking drugged you. Or maybe something made it through the slot in your workstation. Or maybe–

You didn’t fucking know. All you knew was that because of it, you were half-hard by the time you made it to your front door. 

“Are you following me?” You asked loudly as you leaned your sweaty forehead against your door. You panted against the door as you waited for a response. You laughed to yourself as you stuck your hand into your pocket to get your keys. Great, alongside the lust, you were also going crazy. 

“You looked like you needed help. So yes, I followed you,” a voice said from behind you. 

Your eyebrows drew together, trying to recognize the voice. It only took a few moments to pinpoint where you knew it from. You heard nearly a hundred voices a day at your job, but there was something about the man’s voice that was different and made it memorable. 

You just couldn’t remember his name though. Frank? Fraser? Frederick? You didn’t really care to try and remember his name. You had more pressing matters, like picking up the keys you had finally pulled from your pocket and then dropped on the fucking ground. 

“Let me,” Frank, Fraser, or Frederick says, his voice much closer behind you. “Here,” he says, now beside you. 

You hold your hand out to accept the cold metal into your palm. You hope the man will just leave as you close your fingers around the keys and the sharp metal digs into your palm, but the man stays. 

“I’m fine,” you say to the man, sticking the key into the knob with your shaky hands. 

“Let me at least help you get inside,” the man responds, one of his hands moves to your shoulder, while the other goes to your waist to hold you upright.  

“Fuck,” you whisper. Where he touches you somehow feels warmer than the rest of your body feels, even over your clothes. His voice brings you back to earlier in the day when he showed up to the window to be let in. You thought it was pretty weird for a milkman to deliver to his own apartment building, but it definitely wasn’t the weirdest thing you saw during your shift. 

“Let me in?” He had asked you earlier that day. Through the window, you could see his carrier full of milk bottles, but you could also see an extra bottle in his other hand. 

“Making an extra delivery for today?” You asked as you looked over the papers he gave you. 

The man didn’t answer. He must not have heard you, you thought. He nodded in appreciation when you gave his papers back and pressed the button to unlock the door. You thought that was going to be that, but the man got your attention again after you had started going through other papers on your desk. 

“This is for you, actually,” he said as he held the bottle up. One corner of his mouth twitched up, making it look like for once, he wasn’t miserable. 

“Oh,” you said in surprise. You weren’t sure if you were allowed to accept gifts, but took the bottle anyway through the slot under the window. 

“You must get thirsty back there.”

“Yeah,” you chuckled lightly, “my mouth can get dry with all of the talking I do.”

He left after that, but you swore his eyes had flicked down to your lips before he walked through the door. 

“Did you put something in that milk?” You asked, pulling the key from the knob. 

Francis. You remembered as his hand went over yours on the knob. You could see the document in your head, as you tried to remember if the man with you now was the same from earlier in the day. 

“Did you like it?” He asked, “I made it just for you,” he said into your ear, his warm breath puffing across your ear. 

With strength you didn’t know you still had, you sent your elbow backward into the man’s chest. You thought that would be enough, but found yourself on the other side of the door with Francis on your back. 

“What’d you do to me?” You moaned against the door. His weight on your back was heavy as he held you against the door. This close, you could feel the length of his cock digging into your lower back. 

You let out another moan, but this time, Francis lets out one that matches yours when he grinds his hard cock into your back. His hands go to your hips to maneuver you around so he can grind his cock into the meat of your ass. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” Francis says, laying his body along the length of your back so he can say the words directly into your ear. 

Enough to drug you, you guessed. Whatever he gave you was enough to turn your brain to mush, and the only control you had was dedicated to pushing your ass back into his cock. 

“Please,” you whined, “it hurts.” Francis lets you fall slowly to the floor and makes his way to hold himself tightly against your back. What hurts is your hard cock, but of course, Francis knows that the relief you need comes in the form of his hands between your legs. 

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” Francis whispers. His fingers skillfully get your pants open, and then his fingers– the same ones you saw earlier today hand you his papers, wrap around your cock. 

You immediately fuck your hips into his fist, much closer than you expected. You hoped that with your release, Francis would be leaving along with it. Maybe you had fallen asleep at your station and this was some fucked up dream you were having. Letting your head fall forward to thunk into your door didn’t wake you up, so it’s likely that this was real. 

“You’re so wet here,” Francis says in amazement as his fingers collect the precum from the head of your cock and what had already leaked down the shaft. He hooks his chin on your shoulder before he pulls his hand from your cock, and up to his mouth. 

He groans into your neck when he gets the taste on your tongue, “Francis,” you whisper, hoping that saying his name would be enough. You didn’t want to beg, after all, your hard cock should be evidence enough of what you needed. 

“I’m sorry,” Francis says, kissing his apology into the soft skin of your neck. Though it wasn’t on your lips, the press felt electric. “I just needed a taste.”

His words go straight to your cock and you feel another bead of precum drip from the head, just in time for Francis’ fingers as they wrap around the base. 

You cum to Francis’ long fingers around your cock and to the feel of his cock digging into your back. With his chest pressed to your back, the groan he lets out as you come undone under his hands travels through your body. It almost feels as if he’s so close that he’s a part of you and the noise comes from your mouth. It makes you feel crazy. What makes you feel even crazier though is how much you moan for the man as your orgasm courses through your body.    

Francis holds your body up with an arm wrapped around your stomach as you pant against the door and come down from the orgasm that just shot through your body. “Let’s go to bed, sweetheart,” Francis says, his voice full of promise, “it’s been a long day.”

It must be the drugs, you thought as you let him pull you up from the floor. Your soft cock gives a twitch from where it hangs between your legs. You weren’t even sure if it was worth buttoning your pants back up. 

Francis was right, it had been a long day, but you had a feeling that you also had a long night ahead of you. 

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

i saw your prompt list and was hoping for number 6 with Aegon <3

‘’Don’t cry. I hate it when you cry.’’

Request: Aegon married Rhaenyra's daughter. When the king dies, Alicent lock her in the dungeons so she won't go to her mother and ruin the coronation. Aegon ask where his wife is and get you out himself. Tells the guard that his wife is not to be made prisoner

—

You always knew Alicent had madness running through her blood, but you never thought she would have you taken to the dungeons and imprisoned. 

After dressing in your day dress, you were walking down the corridors, looking for Halaena when you heard voices coming from the small council chamber talking about sending men to Dragonstone to kill your mother and Daemon. Before you could get to your bed chamber and write her a message to send by crow, one of the guards saw you and brought you to the dungeons. 

You tried to scream for help, but the sounds were killed by the stone walls. So you sank to the floor and curled on yourself, praying to the gods that someone would come get you out. Someone must have noticed your absence. 

At his return from the dragonpit, Aegon walked into your chambers and called to you. He assumed you were with his sister, so he went to Halaena’s chambers, but she told him she had not seen you. On his way back from his sister’s chambers, Aegon heard the servants whispering about ‘the blacks’ daughter’ and stopped them. 

With fury in his eyes, the prince stormed down to the dungeons. He didn’t have his sword on him — only Aemond wore it on the daily ��, but he had his dagger. Whoever would try to oppose freeing you will end their day bleeding out. Aegon was not afraid of a fight. 

His footsteps echoed off the stone walls and the torches flickered as he passed. As he reached the entrance to the dungeons, Aegon clenched his fists, the muscles in his jaw tight with determination. Without surprise, two guards were stationed at the entrance. They moved to block the way when the prince approached. 

‘’We cannot let you go past, my prince. Orders of the Queen,’’ one of them said.

‘’The King’s dead, which no longer makes her Queen. And as the rightful heir to the throne, it is my command you obey.’’ Aegon tried to go past them, but the other guard pulled out his sword. ‘’I could have you removed from the kingsguard for pointing your sword at your future King.’’ His jaw clenched, his grip tightening on the hilt of his dagger as he stared the defiant guards.

The threat hung heavy in the air, a silent warning of the consequences should they continue to defy him. After a tense moment, the guard who had brandished his sword reluctantly stepped aside.

‘’My wife is not to be made a prisoner,’’ Aegon declared, his voice ringing with authority, holding his dagger at the guard’s throat. 

The guard gulped. ‘’Yes, my Prince.’’ 

Aegon walked past them, wondering how his own mother could do this. A part of him was not surprised, though. Her determination often goes too far. 

Finally, he reached the row of cells. All were empty, except one. His heart was pounding in his chest as he saw you sitting with your knees pulled to your chest on the cold stone floor. He said your name and you looked up, tears welling up in your eyes as you stood and reached out to him. You knew he would come for you. 

‘’Aegon!’’ Your voice held relief. 

He grabbed your hand through the bars, cold from being down here, holding it. ‘’Don’t cry. I hate it when you cry.’’ Aegon reached out to caress your tear-streaked face, his touch a tender reassurance in the midst of chaos. 

Using the keys he stole from the guards, Aegon unlocked the door, a harsh creaking sound echoing in the silence of the dungeon when it opened. Without hesitation, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if afraid to let you go. 

‘’Are you alright?’’ he asked, stepping back to look at you. 

You nodded. You were cold, and very thirsty, but not hurt. ‘’I heard your mother and her father speaking to the Lord Commander. They sent men to murder my mother,’’ you said, a tear slipping down your face. ‘’I was sent here so I wouldn’t write to her and risk ruining your coronation. I need to get to the dragonpit. I have to go to Dragonstone and save my mother.’’ 

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden@memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron   @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08  @mymultiveres  @secretsthathauntus  @puffycreamcakes@thirsty4nonlivingmen@naty-1001@katiepie67@moshpot24x@hc-geralt-23@lovelynerdytraveler@saturn-sas  @zgzgh @sssjuico10@tabloidteen@timetoten@deekaag@wondxrgurl@aerangi@strmborns@astridyoo15@daemonslittlebitch@queenbeestuffs@severewobblerlightdragon@agentstarkid@msliz@vane1999-blog@fairyfolkloresposts@todaywasafairytale07@otomaniac@zgzgzh@thebeardedmoon@golden-library@kikyrizuki@hnslchw@camy85@winxschester @armstrongscommentsection

All and more taglist:  @kenqki  @hawkegfs  @gillybear17   @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade   @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3   @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs  @lexasaurs634  @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634  @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis  @katherinejess  @rafesgirlstuff   @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity  Anouk nani-2305 @books0fever

[simplyholl]

Three’s Company

Summary: While on a mission, a mysterious substance makes you incredibly horny.

Pairing: Loki x Bucky x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ ONLY. Threesome. MMF. Sex Pollen.

See my Masterlist Here

You knew you’d made a mistake as soon as you left the boys behind. Loki and Bucky were teasing you about how you had gotten captured so easily on the last mission. It was a sore subject for you, and you didn’t want to talk about it.

You walked faster down the dark corridor, turning quickly into the first room on your left. They called after you to wait for them. You should have listened. The door slammed shut behind you, the lights coming on as the ceiling sprayed a red foggy substance on you.

Your mission partners rushed to the room as soon as they heard the door clang shut. They could see inside through the small square window in the center. They made it in time to see you duck down, attempting to shield your face from the assault.

They yelled for you, Bucky’s vibranium arm pounding against the door. The door swings open, both of them running inside, the red fog surrounding the three of you. Loki was the first to grab you when it cleared. Both of them checking you out from head to toe. “What was that?” Bucky asked, concern etched on his features.

“I’m not sure.” You almost whisper. “I think it was just a scare tactic. I feel fine.” They nodded in agreement. Everything seemed to be normal. When they were sure that you were okay, they continued the mission. On the way home, you called Bruce letting him know what happened. He said he would look into it, but you didn’t have any symptoms. So he put it at the bottom of his to do list.

An hour after you made it back, you felt like you were on fire. You were thirsty, your skin tingled, and you were extremely horny. You tried taking care of it yourself, but it made it worse. You thought about calling Bruce to tell him your symptoms, but it was embarrassing. You didn’t know how you could look him in the eye tomorrow after telling him you were the horniest you had ever been.

You decide to go down to the kitchen for an ice pack when you hear noises coming from inside Loki’s room. You stop in the hallway, walking over to his door, you press your ear to it. You hear Loki moan. You have to admit, you’re jealous. Had he figured out that you can’t get rid of this ache by yourself? Or did he already have plans with someone tonight? After another moan fills your ears, your panties become unbearably wet.

Curiosity gets the better of you. You know it’s rude to just barge in, but you can’t help it. You turn the doorknob hoping that it’s unlocked. Luckily, it turns. You let yourself in, closing it quietly behind you. You freeze when your eyes land on the hottest thing you have ever seen. Loki is sitting on the edge of his bed with Bucky knelt between his legs.

Loki’s fingers are tangled in Bucky’s hair as Bucky works him with his mouth. Loki looks up when he hears you gasp. “We were wondering when you would join us.” He smiles, throwing his head back as Bucky takes him deeper. You walk over to the bed. ��You need a partner for the cure, or partners.” Loki winks. “We figured it out only moments ago.” His grip on Bucky tightens as he spills down his throat.

You felt like you were going to burst into flames. “Get on the bed.” Bucky commands, wiping his mouth with the back of his flesh hand. You quickly rid yourself of all your clothes before laying down. Both of them hover over you like predators. You’ve never felt so small. Bucky latches onto the sensitive skin on your collarbone while Loki rolls your nipples between his fingers.

Bucky kisses gently up your neck, nipping at your jaw before lowering his mouth to yours. He kisses you hungrily. When his tongue meets yours, you taste Loki. You moan, pulling him closer to you trying to savor it. You suck his tongue, your hormones going into overdrive. What was that red substance? Why did it have you acting this way?

Bucky breaks the kiss to lay beside you. “Sit on my face, doll.” You lower yourself onto him, his metal arm wrapping around your waste to keep you in place. Loki kisses down Bucky’s stomach, stopping at his cock. His tongue swirls around the head before closing his lips around him. He bobs his head, as he takes him to the back of his throat.

Bucky’s moans vibrate against you as he sucks on your clit. You aren’t sure where to look. Bucky looks so hot, fucked out underneath you. But Loki swallowing Bucky’s dick is unbearably sexy, so you focus there. Loki’s eyes shine mischievously when he notices you watching him. His hand on Bucky’s hip tightens as his nose brushes Bucky’s patch of dark curls.

Bucky licks at you, but you can tell he is too distracted to get you off. You don’t mind, you’re enjoying the show. Loki sucks his cheeks in, his hand rubbing the back of Bucky’s thigh. Loki inserts a finger into Bucky, sucking for all he’s worth. You feel Bucky tremble beneath you as he shatters for Loki.

Loki releases him with a pop, his attention now on you. You remove yourself from Bucky, hoping one of them will take pity on you and get you off. You feel faint, the fire like symptoms are almost too much. Loki gets on the bed, you notice he and Bucky are still hard. You shouldn’t be surprised, one is a god and the other is a super soldier. Plus, whatever you all had been infected with had to be assisting in that department. You were used to two pump chumps who finished and rolled over, snoring before you could get your vibrator out of your bedside table.

“I’ll have to take care of you since the soldier couldn’t do his job properly. He seemed awfully distracted.” Loki jests, raising an eyebrow at Bucky. He settles between your legs as Bucky tries to defend his self. Loki bites the inside of your thigh, smiling wickedly as he gets closer to where you need him. You almost jolt off the bed when his tongue descends on you for the first time. Bucky lines himself up behind Loki, fucking into him. Unlike Bucky, Loki’s attention doesn’t falter. His talented tongue sweeps and glides, you writhe underneath him.

Bucky’s flesh hand is on Loki’s shoulder while his metal arm is wrapped around Loki’s torso. You watch as Bucky thrusts into him, the sound of skin slapping and ragged breathing filling the room. Loki licks your clit upward, closing his lips tightly around it. He suckles you as Bucky finishes inside him. You wrap your legs tightly around his head, his mess of curls falling on your stomach and thighs. One last flick of his talented tongue sends you soaring.

Your symptoms subside, but you still feel the heat threatening to come back. Loki must be in the same situation, he lays on his back, motioning for you to ride him. You hop on, hands gripping his shoulders. Bucky sits beside Loki looking exhausted. “That’s it, doll. Take all of him.” Bucky encourages you as you roll your hips, Loki uses his grip on you to set the pace.

You lower yourself over and over again. Loki’s cock hits the right spot every time. It was delicious, the way you fit together, Bucky singing your praises, the way Loki looked at you while you were riding him. It was too much and not enough at the same time. Loki tilted his hips, the angle sent both of you over the edge. When you were finished, any trace of the illness was gone. You lay cuddled together, limbs tangled, enjoying the moment.

Tags

@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @lokisgoodgirl @wolfsmom1 @loz-3 @kats72 @crimson25 @litaloni @zombiesnips-blog @gruftiela @mochie85 @cakesandtom @eleniblue @violethaze @lokidokieokie @buttercupcookies-blog @mjsthrillernp @chantsdemarins @lulubelle814 @anukulee @theallknown213 @alexakeyloveloki @tmilover1993 @fandxmslxt69 @artemis-13 @fictive-sl0th @nomajdetective @goblingirlsarah @foxherder @kathren1sky-blog @javagirl328 @kcd15 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @soggylampshade0 @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @mischief2sarawr @ozymdias @freegardenbanananeck @lamentis-10 @jainaeatsstars @aoirohi @megharat-barnes-reid @yeaiamme2 @pigeonmama @yeehawbrothers @lokischambermaid

[dvrktvnnel]

thirsty ~ bang chan

genre— horror/smut {MDNI!!!}

pairing— vampire!Bang Chan x reader

word count— 2.2k

warnings— blood, gore, very suggestive, choking/gagging, fingering (fem receiving), sucking, blood play/kink, chasing, no protection(wrap it up yall !)

summary— railway inspired fic mwehehehehe

“Thank you for coming,” you said. “I know its not easy to come on such short notice and we’re pretty isolated put here.”

“Ah, it was a rough ride,” Chan answered. “But the train never sleeps.”

You opened the door to let him in, his sleek black coat and leather bag of equipment made him look like a mad scientist. His odd colored eyes completed the look. It suited him well, since he was here to help you study vampires and werewolves. Word of mouth was he knew his shit. If that were the case, then he should be able to help you with a cure.

He walked with you through the corridor. You couldn’t help but notice, and it was so strange, how the other vampires would reach out to him like a savior. With everyone else who’d been here, they were gnashing their fangs and waving their claws at them.

“They must really hate me,” he chuckled meeting your gaze.

“Must, or they think you’re here to save them.”

He shot you a cold look before quickly hiding it behind a cold smile.

“That would be insane.”

You should have doubted him more. It only took a second. You led him to the room filled with vampire blood, hanging from iv racks. He set his bag down roughly, one of his sharp tool pierced a bag. Blood spewed from the tear, and he snapped.

He wasn’t who you thought he was, no, he wasn’t what you thought he was. No vampire would act like that. The way he tore through the guard you called when he shoved the blood bag against his lips was animalistic. He was like a wolf devouring prey.

A hybrid.

You managed to knock him out from behind, running out of the cell and locking it behind you. You stayed and watched him for a while.

He was asleep right now. God was he beautiful, but the blood staining his clothes was eerie. You shivered at the thought of what he’d done to people. What he could do to you.

What he will do to you.

You stood outside the cell he was in. Blood bags hung around him, IVs dripping steadily onto the floor. The sheets were soaked red. Your eyes traveled up his body, taking in every detail of his flawless skin. his veiny arms, his broad chest, his plump lips, his odd eyes staring coldly into your soul. Your blood ran cold, and he twitched.

He didn’t say a word when he got up, thrashing around the room like a wild animal. His eyes were wide with fear, confusion, hunger.

He grabbed one of the blood bags off the pole, biting into it and moaning as he sucked it dry.

You swallowed hard as you watched him. His eyes locked onto yours and he stumbled forward. It was like tunnel vision; all he saw was you.

and God did you look so fucking delicious to him.

You should have turned around; you should have told someone he was awake. But no, you were in a trance. He reached his hand through the bar and stroked your neck with his bloody fingers.

“You look so delicate,” he whispered.

You shivered at his icy touch, the cold burning past your skin. He leaned in closer, his cheek rubbing on the steel bars. You could see the smoke swirling in the air as it burned him, contrasting the cold air his breath blew against your ear.

“Let me taste you,” he whispered again. “I’ve heard so much about you, I want you t be mine.”

You snapped back into reality, and you pushed yourself away. Your eyes refocused, you didn’t even notice they had gone blurry. You took a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“What the hell are you?” you asked.

He laughed darkly, watching you through hooded eyes.

“I bet you scream so pretty,” he said, his voice almost sounding whiny.

He stuck his tongue out, dragging it up the bar that you touched.

You shouldn’t have reacted that way.

You turned around to leave when you heard it. The sound of metal scraping, screeching and bending in ways it shouldn’t be capable of. You whipped around and saw him pulling the bars apart, smiling maniacally.

You didn’t wait any longer, you ran as fast as you could down the hall. You told every guard you passed that he was awake and escaping.

You could hear him coming. The sound of flesh tearing and blood spilling, his growls as he thrust his claws into their necks. Their screams.

You didn’t want to look, but you couldn’t resist. You saw him lift a guard with one hand before slamming him into the ground.

He wasn’t struggling. No, he was playing, he loved the chase, he loved it so much. He didn’t want to catch you yet; he wanted to catch you when you were out of breath with your clothes torn and your hair a mess.

So, he let you run and hide.

You reached the door you had come through, but it didn’t respond to your keycard.

“Fuck!” you shouted under your breath.

You don’t know how he did it, but the power was out. The lights flickered before going off, and the cell chamber went on lockdown. You were trapped.

In a second Chan was right behind you, his claws digging into your side and drawing blood. You screamed in shock, trying to break free.

“More please,” he whispered in your ear with a sadistic smile.

You gasped as he dug his fingers in deeper just before throwing you aside. You clutched your wound and got up, running away from him.

He had let the other vampires out, and they slaughtered the rest of the guards. One of them grabbed your arm, but before it could do anything Chan gashed its throat.

“It’ll be safe when its just you and me,” he said.

You scrambled back to your feet and ran again. It was still late at night, the sun wouldnt rise for hours. You managed to find a closet to hide in, the sounds you heard would haunt your nightmares for years. That was if you even made it out alive.

It took all your strength to stay awake, and after a while the sounds stopped. A dead silence hung in the air with the stench of blood. Slowly, carefully, you opened the door. The heavy metal scraped against the cold stone floor and echoed through the halls.

In the center of the corridor, you saw him. He was sitting atop a throne of bodies, his head resting on the back of his hand like a king. His eyes were locked on you, he knew you were there the whole night.

With a burst of adrenaline, you made a run for it. The sun had just started to rise, you could make it outside and then you’d be safe.

He let you run.

You ran down the corridor, passing the bodies left to decorate his new lair. You slipped in a pool of blood, falling onto the unforgiving ground. You felt your ankle roll and heard it pop, the blood you fell in spattering against the walls.

He was on you before you even realized it. His weight pressed you down, the blood soaking into your clothes snd staining your skin.

“Don’t you worry about the casualties,” he hissed.

He took a deep breath in, his hands holding your waist. He teased the wound he left earlier with his finger, tracing the punctures he’d left. He gave you a rough squeeze and blood oozed out again. You yelled in agony, and he moaned against your ear. His tongue trailed up the side of your neck, thick blood spreading across your skin.

“Baby,” he whispered. “Trust me now.”

You broke free and stood up, bracing yourself against the wall.

“I can hear your heartbeat racing, you’re trembling, come with me.”

You clutched your side and shook your head, desperately trying to avoid his enchanting stare. You pushed off the wall and stumbled out into the courtyard.

The sun was blinding, you could barely make out what was what, who was who. The guards rushed to your aid, they were shouting and yelling but you couldn’t understand them. Your head ached and you felt dizzy, everything looked blurry and red.

The sun only got brighter, and it scorched your skin. You fell to the ground and the guards circled around you. Blood sprayed your face as Chan ripped through them.

You were his now.

You could barely see him, tearing them apart and draining their blood. The dry grass was painted a dark red all around you.

A second silence fell, only the hollow wind blowing gently in contrast to the horrors that had happened.

A shadow fell over your face, and you opened your eyes. Chan stood over you with a crazed smile. He lifted his wrist to his mouth, and bit down hard. Blood spurted out, speckling his face. He let it drip off his chin, and you couldn’t resist sticking your tongue out to catch the few droplets.

It was like a drug.

You grabbed onto his leg, and he knelt down, lifting your head to rest on his thigh.

“More, please,” you begged.

He smiled wide, his fangs on display for you. He took another bite and sucked hard. You crawled more into his lap, twisting to face him. Your fingers dug into his shoulders as you pulled him down.

He pushed your hands off of him, sliding you off his lap. Before you could protest, he took off his jacket and straddled your waist. With one hand under your head and the other pinning your wrists, he pressed his lips against yours.

Blood poured into your mouth, spilling out from between your lips. You hungrily swallowed what you could, choking on the rest. He didn’t let up, moving his tongue against yours and almost down your throat to make your gag.

His blood was so good, it felt so good going down your throat. You gulped it down, it was like you had been thirsty for years, and he was finally quenching it.

He pushed you down harder into the ground, the dirt turning into a bloody mud beneath you. You tugged on his shirt, needing to be closer to him.

He broke away and you gasped for air, coughing up more blood. Your clothes were torn, your hair was a mess, blood was all over you.

Now he would take you.

He lifted you off the ground and carried you back inside. You couldn’t control yourself, you were clawing at him and biting his neck and shoulder.

You were teething.

He took you to the cell with the blood bags, laying you on the table. He took his shirt off and got back over you. He kissed you again, and you dug your claws into his back. Your scratches left deep, dark red marks.

He killed like an animal, and he feasted like a beast, but he fucked like a demon.

He kissed you like he was just as thirsty as you were. He bit down your neck, growling and kneading your flesh. His hands slipped under your shirt, his claws scratching your soft skin.

Chan moved down your body, his mouth was desperate but his pacing was too slow for you. He slid down from your neck to your stomach, you threw your head back and arched your back when he bit down on your wound.

When he sucked, you moaned lewdly. He returned the sound, his low and deep. His claws dragged down to your pants, pulling them off easily.

“Don’t hold back,” he whispered. “Enjoy the ride.”

His fingers slipped in easily, the sharp points on his fingertips made you scream and he moaned again. He moved back to your neck, biting down hard. His fingers thrust in and out of you quickly, and you bit down on his neck.

His back was nearly raw, and you couldn’t tell the difference between your releases and his blood. He was relentless, you weren’t able to keep up with him. Before long, you were out of breath and exhausted.

Once he wore you out, you felt his fingers slide out one final time. He brought his fingers to his mouth and moaned as he sucked them clean.

He smothered your lips with his again, biting your lip and sucking the blood. You felt him line up, his hips snapping as he thrust into you in one movement. The table creaked and squealed, the force of his movements pushing it up against the wall and thudding loudly.

Your eyes rolled back, and he bit hard onto your bottom lip to keep your head from falling back. You knew he wouldn’t have fit if he hadn’t fingered you so roughly before hand, and you were certain that he tore you from the inside to make room.

You could feel every vein, every twitch, every pulse. He pinned your hands down, keeping you still as he thrust into you. He didn’t stop until you finally felt him cum, his hips snapping into place and going deeper than you’d ever felt.

He slowly opened his mouth, his teeth unpiercing your lip. He released your hands and the fell limply off the table. You couldn’t say anything, you just felt indescribable.

He propped himself up on his elbow, and cradled the back of your head with his other hand. He lifted your head and licked the blood from your mouth, then whispered between his teeth.

“You’re mine now, forever.”

i wrote this in a day help me, i’ve never written a story this fast but i was DETERMINED (so ignore any errors)

i plan on writing more fics i promise🙏

@vampzity @scarfac3 @h4untedgrl @losrpark @dollywoo

[ghoastixx]

Yandere!Hannibal and Yandere!Will Graham, who are obsessed with the survivor of a serial killer, who has resurfaced again. So the reader needs to go into some kind off protection and now stays at Hannibal‘s with Will visiting regularly and Hannibal comforting her?

Yandere!Hannibal & Will Graham x gn!reader

synopsis above

Notes: Okay okay okay... as someone who used to read A LOT of yandere fics, i'm flattered to be writing one for such a thirsty fandom. But, I must admit, this is my first time actually writing one. So bear with me please. Also, YAY!! A WILL GRAHAM REQUEST!!! (I'm a stereotypical will graham lover boy) I do love writing edgy insane will graham :3

Author notes: Mentions the "ghost face" killer... sorry y'all at the end of the day im not original and scream 1 holds a dear dear place in my heart. Will is sort of creepy in this. Reader is broken but trying to heal, will and hannibal ruin that. Reader sort of takes Margot Verger's place in a way? Reader is a bit shallow and emotional, sorry chat.

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

The nightmare started two years ago. The ghostface murders happened every year or so; ever since that massacre in Woodsburrow when it all began. They popped up all over America. It wasn't a shock when a new copycat showed up in Maryland, Baltimore. A shame...sure. A shock? Not as much.

You weren't very worried. You lived a relatively boring life, a safe life. You were not final girl material. Well, that's what you had thought before someone in a ghostface mask stabbed you on the walk home from work.

You remember how exhausting the press was when you woke up alive, how nauseating the treatments were, how tedious the whole stay was. It was all boring and you were scared. Your face was all over newspapers, magazines, blogs, what if he came back to finish the job? The fear was too much, you fell into a deep pit of self pity and anxiety... One particular article though.. tattle crime. It pushed you over the edge.

People around you could sense the distress, you were referred to a psychiatrist upon your release. A Doctor Hannibal Lecter.

The first session had gone well, in your opinion. Of course, you hadn't been the most open of patients, but he was so patient with you, he was so understanding. You couldn't see how fond of you he actually was.

The first time you had walked into his office, he was amused. You had been the talk of the news, lately, and here you were now. Sitting in his office. You were interesting. A normal person, someone who had never really been bothered by much.. now utterly shattered. A beautiful vase put to waste, he would be the gentle hand to put you back together.

You met Will Graham almost a year later.

Your appointments were always right before Will Graham's. Of course, you didn't know that, but he did.

You had just finished up a session with Dr.Lecter, gently closing his door behind you, you were met with a shorter man looking intently at you. He had dark curls and his glasses were clinging to the edge of his nose. You stared back at him for a moment. He wasn't making direct eye contact, but he was looking.

"Excuse me...can I help you?" you murmured, a bit freaked out. He shook his head, snapping himself out of it.

"I'm sorry- are you Y/N L/N?" He asked, he had a nice accent that you couldn't place. You sighed, crossing your arms.

"Yes, what of it?" your annoyed tone made him look away from you.

"Nothing-I'm sorry- I just went over your case in my lecture this week,"

"Lecture?"

"Yes, I'm a professor."

"Oh.. what class, if I'm allowed to ask?" He smiled, shaking his head a bit,

"You can ask. A criminal analysis class." you nodded.

"That's very interesting Mister..."

"Will Graham."

You two began seeing each other a lot more while switching roles in Lecter's chair. Friendly smiles, waves, anxious nods.. and then Hannibal started to get into Will's head. His intentions turned to the computer. Researching about you. He reassured himself, he was just doing his job. Researching victims. Until he brought you up in a session.

"What seems to be on your mind Will?" Hannibal asked patiently.

"One of your patients." This caught his attention,

"Which one of my patients would this be?"

"Y/N L/N." Will leaned back in his chair, spreading his legs out. Hannibal straightened up.

"Y/N, I see." His voice was a bit firmer now. He had grown protective over you. Possessive. "what of them?"

So Will began talking about his newfound obsession with you. This pleased Hannibal just a bit, the idea that they both could have you.

So, with Hannibal's nonverbal permission, Will started to get more involved in your life as you both slowly started to succumb to Hannibal's manipulation.

Everything was going swimmingly. That was until you got a notification on your phone during work today.

"Ghostface killer resurfaces after two years!"

With trembling hands, you clock out and immediately go to your car. You sit in your locked car, shaking. As soon as you read the article, you turn off your phone, putting it in the console. You start driving.

You knock on the lavish door, your skin pale and your body shaking. You're so cold. You begin pounding on the door..faster.. why can't he just come out faster?

The door swings open, you almost hit the taller man in the chest. He was wearing a vest and a white button up shirt, dress pants. He had just gotten off work. His eyes held annoyance, but when he saw your rather fragile state, his face grew concerned. He ushers you inside, his firm arms around your shoulders, leaning your shaky form to a sofa. Sitting you down and making you explain to him what's wrong.

"He- he's back Hanni. He's gonna come back after me-" you manage to cry out, his hands softly going through your hair.

"My dear, you're okay.." His phone rings, which makes you jump. He glares at it before seeing it is Will. He answers it, a very frantic voice picks up.

"Hannibal- I can't get ahold of Y/N-"

"Will." he all but chided. "Our love is here, calm down."

"I'm coming over." he stated before hanging up. He sounded frustrated, which just scared you even more.

A few minutes later, a disgruntled Will walks in, immediately coming up to the sofa which housed you clinging to Hannibal for dear life.

"Y/N- I tried to call you- I was so worried." Once he saw your expression, he toned it down as he sat next to you. "Pup..it's alright, we're here."

Both men frowned when you shook your head. "No! He's back for me- he's gonna get me."

Hannibal responded with a 'tsk' sound, still playing with your hair. "My love, he will do no such thing." Will hummed in agreement, rubbing a hand over your back. "You'll stay here with Will and I, we'll keep you safe and sound."

Will was pleased when you caved into the demand, he honestly thought you would've denied it quicker. Both men dotted over you before pushing you to get some sleep. Sandwiching you in between them. Will waited til he could hear your soft snores before looking at Hannibal with a bit of a glare.

"I told you it wasn't a good idea." Hannibal looked at him with a false innocence.

"What wasn't a good idea, Will?"

"Poking the killer. Getting him to want to come back."

"It will all work out..we just had to..scare them into submission. You see? Hasn't it worked."

Will sighed a bit, "Yes..I still don't like it very much though.."

"Nothing will happen to either of you, Will. I wouldn't allow it."

Will did stop talking, not wanting to wake you. Besides, he knew Hannibal had a point. They did have you to themselves now.. and if everything went to plan.. you wouldn't be leaving.

[meathunt]

Vampire dads idea :>

TW Yandere, forced transformation, in a way, kinda parental neglect?, light kidnapping ------------------.* ✶  ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗  ✶ *.------------------ You open your eyes.

Everything is too much, the sounds, the smells, the lights. It feels like it's attacking every nerve in your being. You try to drown your discomfort by holding the ends of your soft sweater harder, is not really working, but at least it distracts you from that hollowness in your chest.

You close your eyes, leaning on the wall of the alleyway you are currently hiding in, letting the cold air of the night bring you some comfort.

It was the first time you were out of your apartment in a month, still being able to remember the night your life went to shit.

You were just finished the shift that you traded with a coworker, making decent money as a waiter in an upscale restaurant. And you were happy to go back to your apartment and proceed to past out on your bed.

That's when the sensation of being watched started. But you were in an active part of town, so you decided to just speed up your pace to get home and don’t really worry about it. After all, who would try to attack you with so many people around?

You felt confident on that decision, until someone grabbed your arm, and trying to look at the one doing it was the last thing you remember for a while. Next thing you knew you were sitting at a bar, in front of a drink that smelled way more flammable than drinkable.

You were just about to get up when a smooth voice captured your total attention. "Hey sweets, finish your drink, weren't you thirsty?" for some reason you couldn't really focus on the strangers face. But their eyes, those deep wine eyes stayed with you.

Swallowing, you thought your throat was very dry, and next thing you knew, you were downing a drink once, twice, until you lost count of how many glasses you had. When you next regained awareness you were in your bed, and everything was spinning.

"I think you are nice and ready for me Sweets?" The nice voice was with you, and something cold was sneaking around your chest, and it grabbed at the collar of your shirt, playing with it before tearing it open.

"A sweet lil' drink, just for me, how lucky" and with that, you felt your neck being stabbed twice, two sharp things buried themselves on you, and an explosion of pain assaulted your senses, your mouth locked in a silent scream as you could feel how your cheeks dampened by the tears and cold sweat from the pain.

A chilling coldness started to envelop you from your core, and slowly grew, overtaking every part in your body.

Weakly trying to fight the person on top of you, but being unable to do much, and the last thing you heard before being swallowed by darkness was a mocking laugh. .* ✶  ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗  ✶ *.

The next time you woke up it felt terrible, your whole body hurt, and you felt in a constant state of fever, with a killer headache to seal the deal.

Everything felt too much, the clothes on you felt like sandpaper caressing your skin, you swear you could hear the water flowing in the pipes on the walls, the sunlight coming from your window felt way too bright and hot. It was overwhelming, but worst of all there was this hollowness in your chest that was growing and threatening to swallow you whole.

Something important was missing. You knew it in your bones but you couldn't determinate what. And that sensation was all consuming. Small sobs escaped from your dry throat and a broken kind of chirp came from your chest.

Just once.

And there was no answer.

That fact destroyed your declining mental state. Suddenly those strange sounds were cutting between your wails growing more desperate by the second.

The weird animal instinct inside you grew desperate for an answer that never came, you weren't sure how long you stayed there crying your eyes out until you tired yourself out enough to fall asleep. .* ✶  ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗  ✶ *.

The next few weeks were nothing short from hell on earth.

Soon you felt hungry, and trying to stand up was a task of its own, you felt like you lost control of your motor skills, at the point that it felt like you were re-learning how to walk.

When you finally reached the kitchen, the humming of the refrigerator grating on your ears, and the smell of food both overwhelming and alluring to you. Almost in animal desperation you ate the left overs you had with gusto. When you felt satiated enough your eyes started to feel heavy.

That broken chirp coming back against your wishes, and a new wave of sadness enveloped you. A constant "scared, scared, alone" in the back of your mind. Dragging your tired body back to your bed while the tears threatened to fall down your cheeks. Picking a faint scent in one of the pillows in your bed, and your body launched itself to it. Bringing that stupid voice in the back of your mind to a stop. Some kind of relief washing down you, and with shaking hands you hugged the pillow closer, almost instantly falling asleep. .* ✶  ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗  ✶ *. At some point of the week you accidentally destroyed your phone, too loud with pre-programmed alarms, it didn't survive being thrown at a wall.

It wasn't until the middle of the second week that things stopped being so overwhelming to the point of freezing you in place. Now they were just overwhelming enough to give you problems thinking, count your blessings right?

You decided to get rid of the uncomfortable clothes you were in, choosing a soft and fluffy sheep themed pajama that you usually saved for when it was really cold outside. But that cutesy white texture was the only thing in your closet that didn't make you want to crawl out of your own skin, plus it gave you some kind of comfort.

By the end of that week a thirst was starting to grow on you, but it didn't matter what you drank it wasn't satiated.

That was until the end of third week when you tried to cook something for yourself, it was a complete disaster. And you didn't finish even cooking the vegetables.

But after a crying fit you realized something smelled...... nice.

An odd thing to notice when you failed so miserably at cooking anything substantial, but trying to follow that lead you ended up in front of the block of raw meat that was finishing de-frosting on the counter. Its mere sight disgusted you, but your body was telling you to eat it, that you needed you satiate the thirst.

You resisted, even from the cloud that currently was your mind you started to think that you were starting to lose your mind to even consider doing it.

You cracked at the beginning of the fourth week, the thirst being just too much. Accompanied by pains all around your body and a realization of how sensitive your teeth and fingers started to become.

At the end of the fourth week you felt very out of it.

The scent that you found on your first week was completely gone from the pillow, a fact that every time you remember, you started to tear up about it.

Your food supply also slowly started to disappear until you had to resort to eating raw vegetables. Something that definitely was not sitting right in your stomach, if puking that morning was any sign.

That bring you to your predicament.

Looking like you were sick, your skin being flushed but looking very pale, your legs shivering from trying to stand up for a long amount of time. Red and puffy teary eyes that weren't focusing correctly on your environment. Hiding in an alleyway in your pajamas because you tried to go to the store to buy more food, but underestimated how overwhelming everything outside was.

The sights, the voices, the new smells made you feel very on edge and anxious.

Like you weren't safe.

Like you were lost.

Like you were so terribly alone.

That stupid sound bubbling inside you, while you tried to contain it. Biting your tongue and pushing it down as best you could. It's easy, you reminded yourself, just one foot in front of the other, and to go back to your apartment, food can wait till tomorrow.

While you were trying to hype yourself up, a sudden, overwhelming feeling started to cover you. As if you were being watched. Your breathing hitched and you tried to scan your surroundings to no avail. You can't hear anything out of the normal thing you were already hearing, but you are sure you felt something near you.

A sound cached your attention, but before you could even try to look for the direction it came from, someone grabbed you and pushed you against the end of the alleyway.

"Do they not teach you new-bloods any manners?"

A towering figure stands before you, broad shoulders and wavy dark blond hair, a full beard adorning an intimidating face. You can make out some scars in the hand that holds you by the collar of your shirt. Deep amber eyes pin you in place.

He has an air on him that screams danger.

The voice in your head telling you that you are completely outmatched by this man, internally screaming danger, danger, alone, scared, help-

"Hey, I'm talking to you" He says with an authoritative tone, making you snap out of your inner monologue and instinctively coil on yourself, or at least attempt to. His hand goes to your chin. Forcing your head to the side to get a better look at your neck “Really, who even is your maker-“

His eyes stay stuck looking at the fading mark that is barely visible at this point where the bite mark was made. You can feel him gaze scanning you from head to toe once more, and his grip on your collar started to soften.

He starts asking you more questions, one right after the other about things you don’t understand, too overwhelmed by everything happening, the adrenaline that was rushing through your body starting to disappear, the situation eerily similar at the one with the man that did this to you.

Your eyes filled with tears and those chirps came back full force, mixing with your whimpers and sobs.

Those sounds took the man by surprise, his eyes turning more soft and he let go of your shirt completely, and proceeds to lift you, cradling you to his chest and rubbing circles while shivers wreck your frame, your sobbing turning to all out wailing. “Hey, hey buddy it’s okay. I’m sorry if I scared you, I wasn’t expecting a kid like you being here all alone. Hell, you shouldn’t be here, period”

You feel terrified of this man, threatened even, but it has been so long since someone held you like this, your instincts fighting between the longing for security and comfort with the consuming fear of someone that you don't know getting closer to you. At the end you go almost in autopilot, nuzzling into his chest while trembling like a leaf.

He takes out his cellphone and starting to walk out of the alleyway. He calls someone, but you feel a bit out of it to really understand what was being said, just small parts, Thomas…surprise.... abandoned.... home..., drowned by the sounds of everything around you.

Yeah, you would like to go home, the sounds of the streets in the middle of the night are getting to you, and in reflex you try to hide deeper into the man's chest. A hand comes, running his fingers in your hair while he finishes his call.

"It's okay buddy, we are getting you somewhere safe" You feel tempted to trust him.

.* ✶  ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗  ✶ *.

After what feels like a blink you land on a balcony.

You feel less overwhelmed, this place is way more quiet, without overly bright lights or overwhelming sounds and smells, just the lingering scent of the man carrying you and another one that makes you squirm in place.

Now that your mind feels a bit clearer.  You don't even know the name of the guy that has been carrying you around like you weighted nothing.

"H-hey, uhm.." your voice feels scratchy from disuse. He turns to look at you, and smiles. before you can ask he answers" Elias" "What?" "My name, I'm Elias Cromwell, sorry little thing I haven't asked, what's your name?" He asks softly

You are a bit taken by surprise at being spoken so nicely from the guy that gave you quite a fright when you first encountered him. " I'm (Y/N). Can I ask, err, where are we?"

"Well kiddo, we are at my house. And you" He boops your nose "Are about to meet someone very special"

Elias slides the glass door to enter the house and instinctually you straighten up, the second scent that doesn't belong to Elias feels even more oppressive. You cling harder to him, almost clawing at his back, looking up at him in fear.

“Well, who is this cutie Elias?” A warm voice speaks from behind you, and you feel someone going to pick you up from Elias arms. You instantly start squirming in place, those annoying broken chirps start once again, you are scared, you just found someone to hold on to, and that security is being taken away from you, the tears start forming in your eyes, you hold on to Elias’s shirt while trying to bury your face into the crook of his neck “Woah! Hey buddy”. The tears start to prickle your eyes, for some reason you are way more emotionally sensitive than usual, and that little scare is almost enough to throw you into a crying fit. “Everything is okay kiddo, it’s just a friend, remember?”. After a bit of silence without an answer you hear the other person sigh and start walking away. You almost feel relieved until Elias starts to follow them. After a minute of walking, enough for you to, somewhat, calm down, you hear a door opening and you enter into a room, if outside felt that it wasn’t very bright, in here is way dimmer, just one light that give out a warm soft glow to the room, but not enough to really see well your surroundings. Elias sits on the center of the room and you feel the presence of his friend getting near you, a cold hand starts to softly scratch at your head, making you try to bury yourself deeper into Elias arms “I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean to scare you. Could you let me get a look at you?” The second voice asks.

You shake your head no, but feel how Elias starts to lower you down, you chirp again in a panic trying to hold on again, but before you can even try, a cold hand grabs yours while you are being sat on the soft floor. “There, there” Thomas hand comes up your cheek cleaning your tears as they fall. “There is nothing to be afraid of honey” He lets go of your hands and bring his hand to cradle your face, making you look up at him, he is smaller than Elias, slimmer too, long strawberry blonde hair framing an elegant face, a fanged smile directed at you, his eyes feel like they are swallowing you up, that bright vivid red almost shinning in the dim room, it makes the instincts in you try to get away, but his gentle hold turns a bit more forceful, holding you in place. “I know you are feeling fussy baby, but you need to start behaving, I won’t have any of my children behaving like brats” That gets you to freeze for a second, what does that mean? His child? But you are an adult! “Really, you should be grateful” He continues, not really carrying about the look of fear that crosses your eyes. “It’s obvious the vampire that was taking care of you, was doing a poor job at it. Just look at you! Almost just skin and bones” You did feel like you lost some weight, a bit expected seeing how your diet ended up the last weeks. “But everything is okay now” Elias says behind you, and pushes you a bit so you end up in Thomas lap. “You are home after all” Thomas says while hugging you.

You want to fight, you really do, but you are so tired, you have already been having a bad time on your own, and all the emotions from tonight are getting to you. The small voice in your head relishes in the fact that you are not alone anymore, even if you don’t know the people that are holding you so sweetly, but that can be a problem for the future you. The present you can feel their eyes start to become heavy and with a hand guiding your head to the crook of Thomas neck you decide that maybe a nap can take priority in this situation. Completely unaware of the smiles adorning the faces of the two vampires holding you, having at last found the perfect little addition for their small family.

------------------.* ✶  ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗  ✶ *.------------------

[yandere-sins]

The Cure

[My Commission Info] | [My Ao3] | [Ko-Fi]

a/n: Another commission for a lovely anon ♥

Characters: Dr. Ratio (HSR) x Male!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Non-Con/Dub-Con, Rimming, Anal, Hand job), Domination, Obsessiveness, Insults, Long Post Words: 6684

"I told you to be punctual."

Sighing inwardly, you put on an apologetic smile as you hurried into the exhibition space housing all the statues the museum had collected over the years. The hefty footsteps of the moving sculpture and the squeaky ones from your shoes were the only sounds echoing through the halls this late, and you scurried over to the bench closest to Ratio before letting the pile of books fall down on top of it, relieved once the weight was gone. 

"I know and I was, but it's getting harder to fool that old guard that I am really so forgetful I need to be let in every night after closing." 

"Excuses."

Dr. Veritas Ratio made no secret of his approach, not wasting any time before snatching the first book of the arm-full you brought and flipping it open. Better than anyone, he knew how precious time was when he had to return to being a silent and still piece of art again, the moment the museum opened its doors to the public. You could have been mad about his constant chiding, but in a strange way, you've gotten used to it, pitying him too much to do the self-respecting thing and leave him to fend for himself. 

Because it was partly your fault, he was in such a bad position in the first place.

His statue had been your big find. Your breakthrough. The thing that paid all your bills now. When you found him in that abandoned crypt, left alone and ready to be discovered after being buried there, you thought he was exactly what he looked like: A statue. A very beautiful statue, but a piece of art regardless. Never in a million years would you have thought that the statue you brought to your home museum, working on it for multiple nights to clean and restore it, would at some point come to life, step off its pedestal, and demand unrestricted access to books on all kinds of medical conditions, spirituality, and biology to find out how he had been turned to stone… hundreds of years ago.

"Thirsty?" you asked, twisting the cap off your water bottle before holding it towards him. Ratio turned his head, scowling down at you with his picture-perfect features, and you lowered your hand, taking a quick sip of your drink before hiding it behind the bench, reminding yourself that your kindness wasn't appreciated. In the beginning, you still told yourself he was just under a lot of pressure and the stress of solving his predicament, but in time, you came to realize it was just his personality. The man was so focused on himself that he hardly tried to understand others—well, you since you were the only one interacting with him. 

It was a conclusion you both reached. If it came out he was an immortal man, petrified by something or someone (Veritas swore he couldn't recall his last moments being flesh and blood), people would probably go nuts over the discovery. Not only would it raise questions about his rights and how to treat him, but he'd be the center of a freak show that he loathed even thinking about. Besides, maybe whatever made him this way would come to retaliate now that he had surfaced again, so he swore you to secrecy, and you, who put him into this museum in the first place, agreed. There were times you wished someone could assist the two of you in finding "the cure", but you respected Dr. Ratio's wishes not to involve more people than necessary. 

For someone grimacing just because you offered him water, he was unusually convinced you two were enough to figure out all the mysteries around him. 

Giving yourself a quick encouragement, you grabbed the second book from the pile, taking a seat before starting to browse. You two had gone through most of the common books found in the nearby library already, so you had begun scouting for more literature of interest around the bookshops and online. Still, neither of you were any closer to curing Veritas from his condition, and although he spent years able to ponder about it, the impatience was palpable as his heavy body walked up and down the exhibition. 

You didn't mind his pacing, the even rhythm of his steps even a bit relaxing as you read through yet another biology book, trying to find hints of petrification between descriptions of mushrooms, but it also made you worry. Even though he was stoic and self-centered on his better days, Ratio usually liked to talk about his findings, even when he wasn't solving his own mystery. He called himself a scholar before, so the new and groundbreaking knowledge of the last century really captured his attention like nothing else. He'd sit by your side, the coldness of his skin slowly warming as your knees touched, Ratio not even flinching when he felt your breath on his cheeks from how close he was leaning towards you to show you the paragraph in the book he was reading. It made you feel like you two were more than just caught in this weird situation. Like you were actually becoming friends. But as of late, he turned back to being colder and distant.

He didn't want to admit it, but he was getting desperate.

You couldn't blame him, really. The way he described the misery of being encased in stone made your heart ache for him, even if Ratio wasn't the easiest to get along with. "It's like time stands still, nothing moves forward, and yet, you are entirely and completely aware it does—just not with you," he once said. It wasn't painful to have his body turned rigid and heavy, but the feeling of constant cold and lifeless organs moving within made him feel like something was constantly wrong. As if he was in a state of mind and body he couldn't escape from but wanted nothing more. 

Considering this, centuries of being buried in the darkness must have felt like hell. And if that wasn't enough, you were the first face he saw in a long time, and he couldn't be sure if you were there to harm him. Instead, he was shipped off, and no one anticipated a living person as he was stuffed in a box and brought to an unfamiliar place at an unfamiliar time. The thought alone made your anxiety spike, and Ratio did it all without moving an inch and giving away what he was. 

So, of course, the prospect of solving his condition would leave him restless and eager to find out about it, even if it made you a little sad. You quite enjoyed the talks you two had, night after night, at the museum. The few but precious laughs you shared and what little similarities you had. You wished there had been more time to learn firsthand what it was like centuries ago and, in return, teach him about modern technology and how to browse the internet to satisfy all of Veritas's curiosities. Who knew, you two might have actually become real friends? His criticism could be harsh, but he was just as interested in going back and forth with ideas and finding solutions to even the most challenging questions as you were. If not friends, you two would have made great work partners.

Your eyes tore away from the page to look at him across the room, standing still like the statue he was, in a thoughtful position. Although it was bad to objectify him, he was beautiful, his skin glistening in the moonlight, almost like marble, cold and mysterious as it stretched over fine details like the lines of his muscles and his firm expression. A sight to behold, even though his chest didn't lift like a real person's, and he could stand completely frozen in one position for hours if he wanted. It was somewhere between uncanny valley and marvelous. 

Catching yourself staring at him for far too long, you shook your head, finally realizing that he seemed way too interested in the same page of the book he was holding. Knowing him just a little by now, you were well aware that the Dr. Veritas Ratio would not ponder just a single page in a book if it wasn't of any interest. Curiosity got the better of you, and you set your own book aside, standing up to walk over to Ratio and look over the edge of his book, standing on your tiptoes to see the contents.

Unexpectedly, Ratio jerked away, his whole body moving like a pillar being rocked by an earthquake, and yet, you jumped, too, expecting some kind of danger. Looking around, the exhibition was still the same, quiet place. Still, when you turned back to Veritas, his eyes were wide open, staring at you as if he had just caught you committing murder or something just as atrocious. 

"Are you alright? I just wanted to check if you found something."

"I'm quite fine!" Ratio replied, emphasizing his words a little too much to sound believable. Narrowing your eyes, you took another step forward, and he let the book snap close loudly before clearing his throat. "It's fine. Just an interesting segment."

"Really?" you followed up, your eyes landing on the title of the book. "Ancient Spells and Curses," you read it out loud, raising an eyebrow and looking up at him. Ratio refused to look at you, his chin raised high like a prideful peacock. "Did you find a cure?"

"What? In this? Don't be ridiculous."

While he was speaking, you reached out towards the book, using his moment of vehement denial to snatch it from his grasp. If there was one positive for you about his petrification, he couldn't react or act as quickly as your soft, blood and skin body could, and you were almost across the room already as he put his feet into motion. With a grin on your face, you couldn't wait to see what the doctor had been looking at so intently, be it a cure or just another interest of his, and you skimmed through the book, looking for keywords that would reveal the pages he had read. 

Naturally, when you saw the word "stone", you paused, flipping back two pages to find the following:

Cure against Petrification

The turned individual can resolve the misery of being petrified by being with their one true love. A body resting warm against their skin of stone, mouth soft to free their hardened lips, sounds loud to rush the still blood in their veins, and accepting the person no longer living as such—a human. Then, the spell may be lifted, and the body can return to flesh and bone.

Occasionally, the petrified will need multiple encounters with their one true love to sift out any remains of the spell.

You weren't sure if you should be laughing or rejoicing as you read the words. They sounded as fake and corny as only spiritualism could, and yet, it was the first thing you two ever found that would resolve the problem you were facing. Turning around, you stared at the hulking figure marching over to you with a sense of dread on his face, Ratio's expression turning from irritated to skeptical to surprised at seeing your wide grin and excitement. 

But then you felt your own mood shift as you suddenly realized why he stared at the solution for so long. If there was anyone that loved Veritas or he loved them, they were long gone, centuries-long. Now that you two had found them, there wasn't anyone who could fulfill the requirements. It was heartbreaking to realize that the only thing that helped could never be tried and tested. Even if you two went public with Ratio's condition, there was no guarantee he'd find the one. His one and only love. And if you two didn't, then… 

"I'm sure we can find something else," you mumbled, closing the book slowly. "I mean, this probably won't work anyway, right? It's just humbug."

You felt awful discouraging him after finally finding a solution, but you also didn't want him to feel your own disappointment. The nights spent with him had also taken their toll on you and your life. You didn't want Ratio to think you were going to drop him and leave him to deal with his predicament just because you were slowly giving up hope. He couldn't need that in his situation. He needed you by his side, helping and supporting him, even if Ratio made it hard to get along. With his personality, finding another pushover to rope into his plans would probably be even harder. Besides, he was your responsibility now. 

"It'll be impossible to get anyone else here and we can't really drag someone into this either, right?"

You did your best to make it sound like you were joking to cheer Ratio up, turning towards him and shrugging your shoulders dramatically. It was your best try to cover up this awkwardness surrounding you two after finding the spell removal, especially considering that Veritas would not try to keep you both focused on the mission, so it was up to you to stay positive.

"Where would we even find anyone else?" you laughed as if it was the funniest idea you had in a long time when your body suddenly fell forward, the book being ripped from your hand while you face-planted directly into a stone-hard chest. 

"Why would we need anyone else?"

The question sounded too certain for it to be a joke, yet you chuckled awkwardly, pushing your hands into his chest to create some distance again. Surely, he must be jesting, however weirdly phrased it was. So when you looked up, meeting his gaze head-on, his eyes clear and unwavering, with determination shining in them that made them look like jewels pushed into a bust, you gulped, wondering what else he could have meant. 

"Exactly…?" you agreed hesitantly, wondering if you had upset him. It was frustrating how hard he was to read, but you couldn't dwell on it. You yelped when he suddenly took a step towards you, your bodies colliding further into each other as you stumbled backward. But one of his defined arms caught you before you could topple over. Step by step, Ratio led you back, and you looked left and right at a way out.

"Exactly," he repeated your words, his voice suddenly low, rumbling like a purr in his chest. It was a reminder that he was still human and could make your head flush with heat, goosebumps rising up your arms. He sounded almost sultry, but you would never admit that. Ratio wasn't the type to make your heart jump, he was barely even a friend!

"I'm glad you understand. Now, I don't need to explain myself."

Your hands pushing against his chest were snatched from their place on top of his pecs. You let out an involuntary gasp as he raised them so high over your head that you had to raise your heels off the ground to avoid the sting in your muscles. "Wait, what? What do you mean?! I don't understand it at all! What's gotten into you suddenly?!"

Ratio clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed that he would have to explain himself after all. You looked up at him in confusion until your back hit the wall, and your body was sandwiched between two unmoving objects, your arms pinned above you. "Let's not waste time talking, when we could be conducting our research in the meantime already."

"Research? What are we–"

Ratio pinched your chin between his fingers, his stiff lips falling to yours with the full force of determination. The rock bounced against your soft flesh, and yet, you couldn't taste any stone at all, not even as his tongue pushed inside your mouth. It was a strange, hardened, foreign object that slipped against yours, brushing the tips together and coating it in your spit. Yet, the longer the kiss lasted, the warmer it grew, its flexibility returning as it explored more of your mouth than anyone had ever done before.

By the time he finally released you from the kiss, Ratio was dipping his softened lips lower, down your jawline, and hovering above your throat, your pulse hitting them over and over. His tongue lapped at you, tasting your nervously shivering skin all the way down to your collarbones. 

"W-What are you doing?!" you asked, flabbergasted and incredulous. Your relationship was undoubtedly special, but that didn't permit him to attack you suddenly! "That's not–Ah!”

Without warning, Ratio dug his teeth into the flesh between your shoulder and your neck, not enough to hurt, but enough to cause your muscles to jerk, your hips jumping forward and against him. You two had never been so close, never felt as much from each other as you did at that moment, and you felt all the blood leave your body as you met something prodding from his hips, brushing against your own crotch in an unmistakable feeling. 

He had an erection. 

Veritas let out something akin to a moan, but he caught himself and quickly cleared his throat, finally stopping the assault on your tender shoulder. "I had my doubts," he admitted, drawing away from you to look you in the eyes. His gaze was calculated and focused. It was the same with which he chided you for not understanding, minus the sneer usually plastered on his face. A face still stuck in a spell but with lips that had regained color after just a few seconds of being entangled with yours. 

"But it seems to work, let's continue testing."

Pushing his leg forward, you hissed sharply as he ground it against your crotch, parting your legs and sitting you down on his thigh, the tips of your feet struggling to reach the ground. "I-Impossible!" you panted, trying hard not to moan as Ratio lifted his thigh even higher, gravity pulling your weight down like you were sitting on a wooden horse. "We're not… we're not like that! It said you need your one true love, and we've been tolerating and working together at best all this time! No way you like me like that!!"

Ratio didn't humor you with an answer, merely leaning forward, more of his cold rubbing against the warmth seeping through your clothes. He was all hard muscles and breathtaking pressure as he pinned you between himself and the wall. A slight shudder went through his body as his cock perked up from beneath the sculptured waistcloth around his waist, brushing up against your thigh. His one free hand slipped along your arm to relieve his other hand from pinning duty. Instead, both of them crept across your palms until he could slip his fingers between yours. But when Ratio interlaced his fingers with yours, you were surprised to find them already fleshy and warm, and you glanced up to watch the stone subside, turning his skin back into flesh. 

"Your stupidity knows no bounds, but luckily, I am here to teach you," he mumbled, face back against your throat as Ratio let out a long sigh. "I waited so long for this. To feel that warmth, taste your skin. I'd done it at some point anyway, but if it returns my humanity, I won't waste time waiting for you to understand my desire."

Finally, Ratio rose to face you again, a slight flush in his expression, his cheeks not yet rosy. "I've never met someone even close to understanding me—until you pulled me out of that crypt. Yet, you think my feelings for you are so abysmal? If I'd care, it would hurt hearing you say that."

"S-Sorry," you whispered, his face so close that every sound louder than your breathing felt as if you were attacking him. Why were you apologizing? His brilliant eyes had their shimmer returned, the amber showing your reflection in them, making you shine in the golden light. You appeared even warmer than you felt with his cold body pressed against you, but it highlighted every one of your features, the beautiful glow of your tanned skin, the puzzled yet adorable look on your face, and the way your body contorted in front of Veritas in an almost sexy way, making you wonder if this was how Ratio saw you, too. 

But just as quickly, the illusion shattered as you came back down to earth with Ratio pressing his leg even higher, grinding you against it. He was beautiful, apparently interested in you, and frankly, a catch if he didn't open his mouth, but that didn't mean you wanted him that way. He was reaching for straws with his research into the occult, and you had been an enabler and pushover so far, but not to this degree! You had to do something, or it wouldn't end how you thought it was right!

"Wait!" you cried out, but you were immediately shut up by Ratio's lips. This time, the kiss was passionate, yet soft, lips engulfing yours as he robbed the breath right out of your lungs, breathing it in as if he had drowned and was desperate for air. You slammed your torso forward, grinding your cock over his defined muscles on his thigh, but it only pushed more air out of your body as you were met with the same cold stone that used to cover Ratio whole. 

When he finally released you, you were too busy gasping for air to continue your reasoning, and then suddenly, your soles hit the ground again as you were twisted around, your hot cheeks meeting the cold wall with a small thud. Your arms were released, immediately slacking to the side, and you listened to the sliding sound of fabric as Ratio pulled down your pants before you could react. 

Gasping, you pushed yourself away from the wall, trying to cover your ass and crotch as Ratio dropped down behind you. He was down on one knee, and still had his head way above your waist, making you wonder just how good his genetics had been for this kind of growth in his century. But that wasn't the point at that moment!

"Stop it, Doctor! We're not that close, we can't just have sex! In the museum nonetheless!"

"Disagree. You and I are both men of science. If not us, who else can prove this method works? Look."

Parting his lips, his tongue dipped out, the pink flesh twisting and moving in perfectly human motions, no amount of stone left in it. You watched it, entranced by its flexibility, when Ratio suddenly parted your buttcheeks and lowered his head while keeping eye contact with you. 

"Besides, I still seem to have failed in conveying my desire for you. I shall rectify it now."

You felt the slippery, wet drag of his tongue on your ass before you could attempt to move away. With a shudder and a jerk from your cock, your bud accepted the prodding muscle, allowing it to stimulate and pleasure you. With a face burning with embarrassment and arousal, you looked down to see your twitching cock bopping up and down as Ratio was undeterred, rimming you with more awkwardness than expected, yet his determination prevailed. 

Half stone, half flesh hand reached between your legs, a palm dragging over your balls before his fingers split and reached around your cock, moving slowly back and forth. It was a harsh feeling, followed by softness, constantly interchanging, and your precum soon wet the palm stroking you, making it even stranger. That didn't stop you from gasping as Ratio's tongue finally breached the rim of your hole, caving out the entrance until it could fit inside. You let out an involuntary moan as you felt it wiggle inside of you, making space for itself and what was yet to come, while Veritas's hand moved faster, the back and forth soon falling into a rhythm with his tongue, making it very hard to think clearly as your legs began to shudder from the pleasure. 

But just as you were edging closer to your orgasm, suddenly, his tongue slipped out, dragging over your bud one more time before his face retreated from your ass, and Ratio's hand came to a standstill. Your heart was beating so fast, it was tricky holding back and not fucking your cock into his palm for the sweet, sweet release. You bit your lips in an effort to keep them close and not reveal a pitiful mewl or moan. 

You felt Ratio shift behind you, effortlessly standing up again, your cock still in his hand as he slowly tugged you forward with it, your hips shamelessly following where his hand went. Soon, your chest was pressed against the wall again, your body hot even when his stone hips molded against your ass cheeks. You felt the outline of his cock rub between your flesh, realizing it was far too big to take inside despite Ratio's preparation. 

Looking back over your shoulder, you gave him a pleading look. "W-We can still stop this," you begged, but his grip on your cock only grew more rigid in return. 

"We've come so far, and you just want to stop? I thought I taught you better than this."

Drawing his hips back, Ratio positioned the tip of his cock in front of your ass, releasing your dick so he could grip your hips instead. You mewled, trying to move forward and away, but his hold was firm, keeping you in place. Ratio's hands were big enough to part your ass cheeks for easy access whilst settled on your hips, and you watched in horror and awe as he was able to produce enough spit in his mouth to drip on his cock for lubrication. The fabric around his hips had magically moved aside to bare his still gray cock, but it was as lively as a real one, the tip glistening as the spit ran off and down the shaft. 

"We've come too far to stop now."

And with that, his hips jerked forward, tip pressing inside you forcefully. You cried out in surprise and the first hints of pain as your bud parted to accommodate the cock prying it open. Another jerk, and this time, you felt him enter you for a few inches, the cold burning against your abused hole and being wet from your juices. "Shh," Ratio muttered, leaning over you and pressing you further against the wall. You hadn't even noticed the whines that had escaped you, too focused on the feeling of his cock forcing his way inside you. 

"I know you can take me. Just relax."

One hand released your hips, his cock lodged between your cheeks now, stuck to your entrance, and Veritas reached around to the front, massaging his palm over your previously abandoned cock again. Slow, deliberate movements that made your hips move in sync with him while he pressed up from behind, your body both fleeing and welcoming him outside of your control. You took a sharp breath in…

And Ratio pushed it out of your lungs at the exact moment, snapping his hips forward and lodging his length completely inside. 

You didn't know what hurt more, your body or the violating feeling you couldn't shake. Ratio could speak about research and desires as much as he wanted, but all this time, it hadn't felt real until you felt your insides clench around his cock, the cold sensation the only thing that didn't make you scream from pain—yet. Your own dick twitched in his hold, spewing ropes of cum over his fingers and onto the wall, and you barely noticed them, lost in a pitiful orgasm that made your muscles tighten and your legs shudder, your body unable to move even an inch. 

But you didn't need to. 

Slipping his feet beneath your soles, Ratio made up for the height difference by letting you stand on top of his toes, even though your heels still didn't manage to come down. It was all so he could keep you in place as he slowly dragged his cock out and plunged it right back in as if to preserve the space he had created. Your body tingled as he stroked your dick half-heartedly, resting his forehead against your shoulder before letting out a deeply held breath. He slowly, painfully retracted his body, dragging his cock out of you up to the tip before ramming his hips upwards and all the way back into you. And from then on, nothing was holding him back. 

In a mix of screams, gasps, and moans, you two felt the desire burn through his stoney body, his cock pulsating inside you as it changed back with every plow Ratio conducted. Mercilessly, he forced your ass to take all of his length over and over while gripping your cock in his palm, fucking your hips into his grip. You could barely find any hold, falling and rising at the same time as gravity played the third wheel in the debauchery, and the once silent museum was filled with your sounds—both the pained and the aroused.

You couldn't be sure if he was still aware of the scientific research he claimed this was or if Ratio had been taken over by desire and pleasure, much like you. He didn't speak, only grunting his emotions into your ear. But with his free arm, he kept you tightly secured, wrapping it around your body while sandwiching you between the wall and him, never letting you fall or even escape as he fucked you senseless. The foreign object moving in and out of your ass pressed up against the wall, too, as it bulged your stomach to accommodate its size, your skin scrapping the cement and leaving it bruised, but it didn't seem to deter Veritas.

Soon enough, you both were gasping, breathless messes, feeling blazingly hot against each other. It was nothing compared to the cold firmness of his cursed body from before. All that was left was soft, fleshy, and comfortingly warm, his touches unrestricted, his cock wet and moving sloppily as Ratio was nearing his orgasm as well. And yours? You had spilled your jizz twice more while he had yet to finish once, sullying the wall with the pitiful painting of your violation. 

"That's it," Ratio breathed into your ear. "We did it! We did–"

Interrupted by his own breathless groan, you felt his cum spill inside you, swapping around like molten lava, hot and sticky, a testament to his transformation. You cried out as he filled you up with years of restraint, almost feeling as if he was shooting another load right after the first one. You, too, let out one last pitiful, watery string of cum; his hand, now completely human and sticky, was dripping with your seed as if it was lotion for his newly acquired skin. 

Your breath was ragged as you forced some focus on your hands, pressing them to the wall as your body shivered and moved. Ratio was still pumping you full of cum, but even he seemed to grow tired, staggering on his spot. And the mean, mean gravity did what it did best: pull you down the second Ratio took just one step back. 

His cock slid out of your buttered hole, releasing all the cum to seep and bubble out of you as you sank to the ground. You didn't even register the pain of your knees hitting the floor as your mind focused solely on the feeling of cum spewing from your abused ass. But reality hit you hard as you leaned your face against the wall, only to be met by your own sticky semen now drawing ropes between you and the cement. 

"Amazing," you heard the doctor mutter behind you, and although your ass and hips felt like they were mangled, you twisted around to look over your shoulder at him. Before you stood a man with the same statuesque looks as the statue you had spent so many nights sitting over books with. Yet, you couldn't see him with the same eyes again. At best, he was mad, completely out of his mind. And at worst, you had truly never registered what kind of monster he was all along, although the signs were clear and right in front of you. 

Neither perception looked as good as he did now.

With hair as blue as the night sky through the ceiling window above you, eyes that of liquid gold, and the build of an Adonis, Dr. Veritas Ratio was still a breathtaking sight. And you hated how it made your body flush with arousal when his gaze lowered back to you, gracing you with that unreadable, haughty expression on his face you knew too well, his cock still standing majestically, even after fucking you. To think you wanted to be friends with someone who had no regard for your feelings and rights if it proved useful to him. There would be no such thing now. You two would never be able to recover and form a relationship after what he did to you. 

Absentmindedly, you watched as Ratio picked up the book that had caused all of this. At some point, he had discarded it to force himself on you, but he seemed to immediately find the page again, reading it over when something else caught his attention. A short, unamused laugh echoed through the room, and he lifted one hand, twisting and turning it in front of his face. Squinting your eyes to see better through your teary vision, you could see the rigidness taking hold of his fingertips, stone spreading like ice crystals over his skin. His lips parted as if to comment on the circumstance, but he quickly closed them again, knowing it made no difference whether he spoke about it or not. It was happening again, and he could only watch. You saw his euphoria disappear into the depth of disappointment. However, you couldn't feel bad for him this time like before. 

Ratio's expression turned stern, his thoughts unmistakingly twisting around what went wrong and how to fix it. His gaze fell back to the page, then to his hand, the book, and finally, to you. Tapping his petrified pointer finger onto the paper, he took a deep breath before reading aloud, "Occasionally, the petrified will need multiple encounters with their one true love to sift out any remains of the spell, it says. Let us do it again to be sure."

Do… it? Again? Did he mean sex? Forcing himself on you as if you were nothing more than a means to an end? Perhaps you were—at least to Ratio. It had never been about camaraderie or pursuing the same goals, but now you had to suffer for his selfishness. Were you nothing more than an accepted sacrifice to solve his problem?

Your thoughts were interrupted by a tender kiss, much different than the ones before. His lips were almost playful as they coaxed you to return the affection that you refused to do. "Tell me what's bothering you," he mumbled against your lips. "I can see your brows crinkling from all the thinking when, really, you should only look at me."

His words only made you more upset, as if to say you weren't smart enough to think. Your contribution was no longer appreciated unless it was your body he needed to reverse the spell. You should have said something, making him understand how awful he was. But your anger settled above everything; your need to be validated after being used and abused greater than anything.

"I brought you here. You should be thankful I took you out of that crypt and helped you come this far. How dare you think you can treat me like this."

Ratio grew silent as he listened to your words, his eyes falling down to your lips ever so often before returning your angry gaze with one of belittling mockery. "I must admit, you're cute when you're angry. Is this what you are thinking? That I am using you, ready to discard you once I'm done? You are wrong, which isn't new, but you should know I am not planning on letting you go, especially not now."

Pushing your legs apart, Veritas positioned himself between them, his hands falling to your body, roaming until you attempted to stop them with your own. However, he merely interlaced your fingers again. This time, they had already returned to their stone-cold version. Yet, he forced them to comply, however uncomfortable it must have been. Back in this compromising position, you had no choice but to let him pin your hands to the ground, hovering above you with eyes so brilliant, they were beginning to fill you with dread. 

They showed yourself in them, vulnerable and resigned, knowing you couldn't fight him. That despite what he was doing, you couldn't just leave him and this place behind. That his discovery would always come to haunt you, one way or another. But far behind that reflection of yourself lay something much more sinister. It hadn't been there when he was still petrified from hair to toe, but you saw it now. Ambition and desire, feelings that only you could awake in him after all this time and in this new day and age.

"You could have left so many nights ago, but we both know you need me," he whispered, lowering his face again and bumping his forehead to you. "All these times I gave you a chance to never return, but you did. Perhaps, I know why. I am your magnum opus—and you are mine. I will make sure those idiots mocking your finds and achievements witness the greatness of the one and only person I desire to be with. Once I have my body back, you'll bask in the glory of excellence with me by your side. Together we will be unstoppable, darling."

His hand slipped off yours, and you remained still as you let his words repeat in your mind, like a proposal of sorts. But when his touch found its way to your ass, you jolted awake, trying to scurry away as he probed at your violated bud with his cold, stiff fingers. 

"But first, you need to do this for me. For us. A small price to pay for recognition, don't you think?"

Panic set in, tears shooting into your eyes as you shook your head vehemently. You wanted to say something, but the sounds coming from your hoarse throat didn't form words. 

"Don't pretend to be shy now," Ratio scolded you gently, and for the first time since meeting him, you saw a genuine smile play on his lips. Lips that parted to lick his fingers as he raised them before they twisted into a wolfish grin. "We still have a lot to study and find out. What's your favorite position? What makes you cum the fastest? Things like that. And we need to be thorough." 

He looked almost boyish as his smile softened again, eyes scanning your body with a never-before-seen interest before he found your gaze with his. You flinched as you felt his wet fingers back at your entrance, and you couldn't help but struggle, mewling and trying to get away from what seemed inevitable. Ratio shook his head and sighed. "Still resisting? Thankfully, we have all night to answer the questions."

Ratio looked up. Gone was all the softness, only ambition and lust remaining in its stead. Desire that needed to be quelled and strive that demanded absolut dedication from him. And then there were you, caught in the bullseye, the only thing he was focusing on at this and surely many other moments.

"I am sure you'll be a valuable asset to my research. Now relax, darling."

[drdawnbreaker]

𝐒𝐡𝐡, 𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤 || 𝐑𝐄𝟒 𝐋.𝐊

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x Fem!Vampire!Reader

Summary: Imagine a vampire au with Leon, but in this case. He is the human, and you are the vampire. And you are very, very thirsty.

Word Count: 2.57k

Warnings: Blood. Making out. Pet names. Mention of cannon level of violence and death. Dry humping, pussy cupping. Forgive me

Notes: This is my first time writing Leon, so please be kind ahh. I tried my best, ahhh.. enjoy!! Also, i thought of RE4!Leon? But mixed with a bit of death... idfk at this point, hehe.

So you both work together, and you get along well with each other compared to the others in your units. And one day, Leon had been assigned to work a recon mission along with a small team. He hates teams. But when he found out you would be there, he felt slightly at ease. What he wasn't looking forward to was working with several of the other shitty men. When he walked onto the jet, all he heard were mutters of "Why is she here?" "Do we even need her?" "I heard she's only here cause of her hacking skill set"

If only they knew.

Yes, you were incredibly intelligent and good with computers, that's why the government liked to keep you around. But something not a lot of people know about, including Leon, is that you had two choices, join and serve or rot in a cell. Of course, you picked somewhat freedom.

Onto the mission at hand. To say, it went to shit was an understatement. You, Leon, and the others were trapped in a church somewhere off the track you needed to follow. There was a swarm of ghoulish creatures. Someone must have tipped your opponents off.

It had been almost 3 hours when you started to feel it... the hunger. You had packed blood shots for this exact situation, but alas, your pack was lost when you found yourself running away from a pack of clickers. The dryness in your throat, the over-sensitivity of hearing. Even the sun that was shining through the high windows began to sting your eyes.

You needed a drink.

But none of the men here knew, nor did you want to reveal such a big part of your life to some random soldier who only wanted to get into your pants.

What about Leon?... no. You couldn't ask him. Not when he got so much on his plate as it is. Your gaze caught Leon sitting on a few old boxes, staring out the window aimlessly. He is a good man, strong, caring, and plus he was understanding. He never held anything against you. If you needed to slip out for a moment, he never asked why. He wouldn't judge you... you hoped. "Uh..Hey Leon.."

Your voice sounded so small, not to mention the cracks hidden beneath it as you held yourself from jumping him. You could hear his blood move in his veins, going straight for his heart. Fuck.. You needed a drink now before you lost control. Worry began to seep through your being at the thought of losing yourself for a moment in front of any of the men in this room. None of them would think twice about putting a bullet in your head. Heck, you think they’d probably enjoy it. Take one for the team and all that bullcrap.

“Uh..L-Leon.” Fuck, why did you sound so small. “C-could I talk to you for a second…Alone.”

Leon’s stoic face quickly snapped to one of concern, knowing you weren't the type to ask for anything. “Y-yeah sure, doll. Are you okay?”

God, if he called you doll again, you might just lose it.

“Y-yeah I’m fine. I just need a favour.” Guiding Leon to one of the back rooms where you know none of the others would venture, you felt your hands start to shake from the mixture of hunger and anxiousness… this was a mistake. You thought, pacing the room. Leon could see the way your body was fighting for something, or against something maybe? Whatever it was, it made his instincts react highly. Grabbing your upper arm, he gently tugs you so your whole body could face him before he gently cups your chin so you could look at him.

“What's the matter? Talk to me?” Leon’s first thought was you might have been bitten, but then you would have shown symptoms by now and turned within the first hour, so it wasn’t that. Maybe you're catching a cold? Or a slow-acting virus could have gotten you. Whatever it could be he was ready to help in any way he could. “What do you need, love?”

“You can’t freak out. Okay..” That was the first time in this whole situation that you spoke without stumbling over your words. Everything just got real, really quickly. “There was a reason why the government kept me around. There was an agreement on my behave…I either serve this country or die…”

“Why are you telling me this?” Leon wouldn't lie and say he wasn't curious as to how you got into where you were today, but he wouldn't have thought you were forced. Not by a long shot. You always carried yourself as if you somewhat enjoyed this job. Saving people, killing monsters. You did it with flying colours. It was your calling…isn't it?

“I lost my pack and they had my vials in it….” You gulped before looking up at Leon, staring into his soft, lost eyes. “They were my food… without them I have to drink from a main source.”

Main source? Vials? What on earth are you talking about? Leon’s grip didn't falter as he asked, “What were they?”

Closing your eyes for a moment you took in a deep breath, trying to calm your shaking nerves. Okay, do or die here. He either is completely chill or…. You didn't want to think of the latter. “Please… don’t be mad.” You opened your eyes, revealing the dark pools of crimson that you normally tuck away. Feeling your monstrous half front, causing your senses to heighten more, letting you not only hear Leon's blood pumping inside of him, but smell it too.

“Woah…” Leon muttered, but yet he didn't move. His hands kept where they were and his gaze never shifted. He watched the different shapes of red dance in your eyes and it was then he understood what was going on, what you were. He’s never run into vampires before, but he’s knowledged about them. On one half, you have the rogue vampires,━ghoulish creatures that have no humanity whatsoever━, and then you have the humanist versions. A kind of half and half. He never would have expected you to be one… but then again. “This explains so much.”

“What?”

“I mean... You always only need a couple of hours of sleep. I’ve never seen you eat food other than quick protein bars and you took down Chris one time in the training ring. He’s still trying to figure out how you got the upper hand on him but you..being.uh.. This. no wonder.” Leon spat out word vomit before he could even notice what he was doing, basically confessing that he watches you…all the time. You couldn’t help but laugh;

“He was already cheating…” Your eyes squinted as you gave Leon a toothy smile, making Leon look down at your little k9s. He feels slightly guilty now, he should have picked up on it, should have noticed you were different. He would have helped you sooner, kept an eye on you more closely just in case you ever needed it. You cleared your throat, making the soldier shake out of his deep thoughts; he noticed you were now looking down at the floor, picking at your short, broken nails. “So..y-you’ll help me.”

Leon was so caught up in the newfound knowledge he almost forgot why you even told him in the first place. “Oh..yeah, I’ll help. Whatever you need. I’m here.”

It was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders just from his softly spoken words. No further words were spoken as Leon gently retched to cup your cheek, an expression of curiosity and calmness painting his handsome features. He guided you to the floor behind a couple of crates and other shelving and boxes so if someone were to come through the door at least you both would be covered to give you enough time to clean up.

The room felt like it was silent except for the sound of your shaky breath and Leon's heavy breathing pooling out of his nose. With his legs spread his lap was inviting as you settled onto him without as much of a peep from either of you. This was intimate, way too close for two friends; heck, you didn't even know if you deserved to be called friends. You only saw each other on the job. Would he think of you only as a mere college? Someone he's just helping out with a favour? But yet the way his arms wrapped around you, holding you close to his heaving chest, said otherwise. It was like Leon was trying his best to reassure you through his movements, letting you know you were safe with him.

“Where do you want it?” His voice was deeper than normal. It caught you off guard as you couldn't help but look at him with confusion. So Leon repeated, correcting himself slightly, “Where do you want to bite me, Doll?”

His tone was calm yet laced with anticipation. You gulped, whispering in a reply, “W-where do you want it…Leon?” You don't know why exactly but it felt right to let him decide where you drank blood from. You already felt bad for asking, so this was, in a way, letting him know you wanted him to take the lead. That he was the one with all the power, not you. He didn’t answer with words, as you expected… He instead moved to the buttons of his shirt, slowly unfastening them one by one, exposing his neck in silent invitation. The room seemed to grow warmer, the air thickening with unspoken tension. His skin was so soft, silky, your fangs could easily pierce the delicate flesh…“A-are you sure…”

You needed to ask him, almost pleading with him to reassure you. It was one thing confessing a crush to someone or exposing some weird secret you might have had as a kid… but this was you, exposing the biggest part of yourself and asking for help. His hand gently came up to your head, patting you with so much care it made a lump form in your throat, “It’s okay Sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere until you’ve had what you need.”

Your fangs grazed his skin shakily as your breath pooled on his hot skin. You could feel his pulse throb, and blood pump faster. He was… excited? Why would he be showing signs of excitement in this kind of scenario… “Leon..”

You didn’t know if you were saying his name for a warning, a question or a plea but Leon’s firm grip never faltered as he dragged you closer until your chest was flushed against his. “Shh, drink baby.”

Leon let out a deep groan followed by a broken gasp as your sharp fangs sunk deep into his flesh. The pain was almost immediate but what followed next caught him off guard. “Fuck, ngh.”

Leon knew some myths that vampires had special abilities, including a venom that could help ease the pain when drinking from someone. In this case, it can create a sort of pleasurable barrier, and he was now certain this was true as a surge of adrenaline coursed through his veins straight to his cock. His hehazyl back against the wall, his eyes closing as he savoured the indescribable sensation. Your lips were like clouds against his skin while your tongue was squishy, lapping gently against the small entry wounds, soothing it even as you drew blood from him. Blood richer than any you’ve ever tasted. You’ve almost forgotten how pure blood tastes, having drank diluted packed and almost stale blood for so long. You couldn’t help but moan as you swallowed each gulp, saLeon'sng Leon’s flavour.

Before either of you could process what was happening, your body began to move, your hips grinding against his clothed core, making Leon’s hands instinctively move from your waist to now grip your hips, hard. Guiding you as you humped against him. Your rhythm is frantic and desperate as you drank him in, in more ways than one. The taste of his blood was so intoxicating, and you were slowly losing yourself in the sensation, your senses overwhelmed by his scent and the warmth of his body. Your moans grew louder even though they were muffled, movements became more urgent, your nails digging into his shoulders as you pa ressed yourse.lf closer, seeking friction, seeking release.

“F-fuck baby, if you keep d. Otherwise,’m gonna..” Leon didn't finish his sentence as a sweet moan slipped from his lips into your ear. His cock hardened beneath you, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he fought to keep control. “S-slow down.”

You wanted to listen but you couldn’t. The combination of his blood and the feeling of his body against yours was too much, too overwhelming. You needed to pull away, stop before you drank him dry. So with much force, you yanked yourself abruptly, your fangs sliding free of his skin, letting blood drip from your lips and down your neck. Your chest heaved as you panted, your eyes wild, glowing as he stared up at you through hazily eyes. “I-I’m s━.”

But before you could say anything, Leo,n stood, lifting you with him with litlazy no effort. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he pressed you against a nearby wall. “Don’t ever fucking apologise.”

His lips crashed down on yours, his tongue demanding entrance, tasting the coppery sweetness of his own blood on your tongue. Your hands flew for his hair, tangling them in the strands, tugging. Small whimpers were swallowed by Leons dominating tongue, as he moved his hands down, tracing your curves frantically before finally slipping along the waist of your belt. “You’re driving me crazy.”

Leon’s hot breath tickled your face as he pulled back, your eyes gazing down to watch him easily pop your pants open. You were already soaking wet, your cunt throbbing with need, and Leon could tell you were just as excited as him. His fingers slipped in, getting dangerously close to your clit but before you would feel the sweet release of his touch;

“Leon I nee━Kennedy, L/n. we’re rolling out.” A loud call alerted both of you, the man's voice laced with frustration. You felt slight relief Leon had pushed you up against the wall where all the storage boxes were, otherwise the young private would have seen you not only in a very compromising position but with Leon’s blood sweetly drying on your neck and chest.

“Be there in a minute, start packing up the gear.” Leon’s voice was laced with authority but his glasses over eyes never left your own, nor did he make an effort to move you off the wall. The other man muttered something before walking out leaving you both in silence once again. But prior to you trying to graze off the slightly awkward situation, Leon's hand slid all the way down past your panties until he cupped your pussy. “The minute we’re alone. I’m gonna ruin this cunt while you take another bite from me. How’s that sound Doll?”

You felt your head spin and all you managed to get out was a lazily nod before whimpering, “Yes…”

–

Not proofread, so if you saw any errors.. no, you didn't.

[andhumanslovedstories]

you think often of how nurses should speak and relate to patients, and i highly appreciate knowing you put this kind of thought in and share it with other nurses. but as someone who often occupies the patient position, i'm curious if you have any thoughts on ways for patients to interact with nurses, when we are in decent enough control of our faculties to make choices about that. i would like this knowledge from both an altruistic perspective in recognizing nursing is difficult and not wanting to voluntarily make it difficulter, and a wholly self interested position of knowing nurses who like interacting with me give better care. what helps as a professional and as a person?

I'm surprised how much I had to think about this question. What do I want patients to do? I don't know. A lot of it is basic human decency, some of it is specific to my nursing workflow, but overall I find it complicated saying what patients "should" do. I cut out about 500 words of navel gazing from this post explaining why. Here are answers I've come up, in no order and not of equal importance.

--a lot of it is basic "polite interaction with another person in a professional setting." If you're asking this question, you probably care about treating people well in general. If you wouldn't say it to a barista, would you say it to your nursing tech?

--don't do joke answers to basic orientation questions like "what's your name" and "where are you right now", because it's annoying to have to clarify if you're actually confused or if you're fucking with me. I know they're annoying. Just answer correctly so we can move on.

--have some flexibility and patience. Hospitals have a lot of moving parts, and each person interacting with you has other patients that also need care. My hospital and state has mandated nursing ratios. The maximum amount of patients I've had in one assignment is five. Other hospitals have far less protection, and nurses may have six, eight, twelve other patients. Our respiratory therapists each cover multiple units. One CNA might cover the entire floor. I know if melatonin is the difference between you sleeping or not sleeping, it is very frustrating for someone to bring it late. I just ask you keep in mind that there's dozens of reasons that might happen besides someone ignoring you.

--help us help you. If you can lift your arm up for me to put a blood pressure cuff on, why are you holding your arm completely limp so it's like putting pants on a toddler than doesn't want to get dressed? If you can help roll yourself in bed, help us roll you. If your IV is beeping, hit the call light so someone can come turn it off. If you don't have urgency issues and you can tell you're going to need to go to the bathroom soon, call before it's an emergency. If your IV hurts when I give you medication at 8 pm, tell me then, not when I'm trying to give you your midnight antibiotic and all the evening staff have already gone home.

--if you don't understand how something works in the hospital (what happens when you hit the call light, how often are people going to take your vital signs, why can't I get up and walk around the room), just ask. It's really easy for people who work in a hospital every day to forget other people aren't familiar with it.

--don't treat doctors noticeably better than you treat everyone else.

--pet peeve number one: if I give you pills in a med cup, you can just use the med cup to get the pills to your mouth. You don't need to pour the pills into the palm of your hand and then pop them into your mouth. You're gonna drop the pills, and I'm gonna end up on the floor looking for a tiny tablet of dilaudid.

--bundle requests, especially low-importance ones. If you ask for crackers and you know crackers make you thirsty, just request your drink at the same time. Don't make me walk to your room, the nutrition room, and your room again ten minutes later.

--I don't expect people in the hospital to be pleasant all the time, and I don't take snappiness personally, but I always really appreciate the patients who apologize or even just acknowledge their behavior.

--I love patients who acknowledge my work. I don't need effusive praise or a thousand thank yous. It means a lot for someone to just be like "hey, thanks for your help tonight."

--have patience with repeating yourself. If you've got something important and complicated to convey, practice a quick understandable blurb that takes no brain power from you. There may be something that you've told the staff a dozen times, and it may be documented in your chart, but in the hospital you see many people who have never worked with you before and for whatever reason didn't read that info in your chart. For example, I'm a float pool nurse which means I almost never see the same patients twice. I can get sent to a different unit and a different patient load at literally any time. I can't familiarize myself with complicated documentation or read every nursing note. Especially not for patients I know I will only have for four hours. I know repeating yourself is annoying, I know it sucks to have to explain your bathroom routine or your preferred pain med or when you like to get pills or whatever every shift. And it's great when people make that information very easy to find! But if you just accept the reality you'll be repeating yourself a lot anyway, it makes doing so less frustrating.

--pet peeve number two: don't exaggerate to make a point. This is such a human thing to do, and god knows I catch myself doing it all the time, but you can raise objections in a way that's factually true. I've got a lot of concrete data that people are very often wrong when they say they're been "waiting for hours" after hitting a call light. The computer has a time stamp of the last time I was in your room. I know it was 45 minutes ago. There's a timer by the call light. I know you called twenty minutes ago. And I know it feels much longer when you are waiting for basic cares or pain control or anything pressing. Things can be unacceptable without needing to be exaggerated. When the exaggeration is the base of your complaint, it undercuts your credibility. Honestly I find it really irritating when I spend a disproportionate amount of my shift with one patient only for that patient to tell another staff member that I've been neglecting them. Just say I did a bad job, don't pretend I wasn't there at all.

--don't ask me to pull my mask down so you can see my face. like cmon dude.

--I'm not saying you have to send all your visitors out of the room when I'm there, I'm just saying have some sympathy for how nerve-wracking it can be to do your job while being intensely watched by five other deeply invested people with limited context for your actions.

--this is a nebulous and difficult one. You might have a lot of emotion that you don't know what to do with. What you shouldn't do with it is channel it into every interaction you have with a healthcare worker. If you feel guilty about how you haven't visited your mother in a while and now she's in the hospital, you gotta find ways to deal that don't involve getting extremely passive aggressive at your mother's night nurse.