#tw violent sex mentioning

[morg-among-the-stars]

How My Views and Thoughts Were Skewed and How I Un-Skewed Them (Read tags before reading, please.)

For a short time, I felt wanted. I thought I was loved.

You said I was hot and that you thought often about railing me, whatever that meant.

I thought that’s what desire was.

During the rare times I truly felt confident in myself to wear something that showed the tiniest bit of cleavage or my thighs, you’d tell me that you had a boner (which never made sense, considering you were non-binary and didn’t have… those parts, but who was I to discredit however you saw yourself and your gender?)

You were utterly obsessed with porn and that funneled down to me. You told me you’d tie me up so vigorously that it could break my wrists and you said you’d choke me so hard that it would kill me.

I just thought, “Well, some people are kinky.” and excused it. Rationalized it. But my gut and my body knew better, fear wrecked me. The idea of lying under such crude and uncaring hands wrecked my soul and make me ill.

You’d watch unethical porn and it would get into your mind and funnel down to me. But you had rules; I couldn’t ever try to seek out something like that myself, even when I knew how to find ethical and morally-sound adult things. That was, “being lustful”, sinning after others as you called it. I’ve never even believed in God, but I didn’t want to make you mad.

When we broke up, you called me a whore and a slut, when I’d never done a single thing wrong. I followed your rules (What relationship has rules? Who are you to strictly tell me what I can and cannot do?) and went along with every violating, grotesque thing you talked about doing to me, and I let you shove me into the hard-set box of being your submissive, delicate thing to use and the mere notion that I could have some control or say was always, always brushed off.

But I’ve learned that I’m not supposed to want to vomit at the thought of sex.

I’ve learned that sometimes, showing my thighs is just that, showing my thighs or cleavage or a bit of my stomach. I like shorts in the summer and the occasional crop-top. I’m allowed to wear it and just have it be a cute outfit.

I’ve learned that sex is supposed to be warm. Pleasurable and fun, of course, but warm and intimate mostly.

Where it’s never railing, but lovemaking or just the word sex. I prefer the word sex over anything you’d ever say.

Where there’s a mentioning of aftercare and where there’s a mutual agreement to communicate and truly listen to what the other person wants to do or try.

Where I’m allowed to say no.

It’s taken so long to not freeze up at the mentioning of sex, to open up again and not feel vile when I have sexual thoughts or fantasies of my own. It’s taken so much mental work and re-wiring of my thoughts.

But I’m learning. I’m still learning. I’m learning and working hard to shake off the bitter, violating taste that you left in my mouth.

There’s still a long road ahead of healing and communicating. Helping my partner (who actually gives two shits about my boundaries…) to understand me and to help them in any way I can, in return.

It’s a long road ahead but it’s a road I can take to dispose of all your true sins. You call me the sinner, when you should take a good, long look at yourself.

[m-ayo-o]

seeingdouble ɘldυobϱniɘɘƨ

KINKTOBER IV: DRUGGED starring: f!reader, megumi [25+], toji [mid 40s] synopsis: megumi is led down a dark path by his assassin father. his moral compass askew, lacking any real social experience, he's left to his own devices with a cute girl. thankfully, toji shows up in time to take control. warnings: murder, violence, spiking, drug use: narcotics + psychedelics. stripper!reader [who sometimes offers sex work]. virgin!megumi. restraints. choking. unprotected sex. incest [pussy sharing, dp, anal] guidance. non-con; reader starts to enjoy it [she is drugged] wc: 4.5k

⋆⁺/ don't like it? block it / do not interact i do not condone taking drugs. spiking is illegal. this is fiction

18+ EXPLICIT SEX | DARK CONTENT | HORROR THEMES

When Toji’s wife passed he managed to sell off his daughter to the notorious Zenin clan for a pretty penny, but decided to keep the ten shadows boy for himself. 

Without his wife, daughter and clan, Toji’s life spiralled out of control and he took Megumi down with him. 

Toji left everything behind, so did Megumi.

Toji became invisible, so did Megumi. 

He corrupted him and dragged him into a cursed life of killing for money. 

Leaving his boy in cheap, dusty hotels, Toji would go out to commit murder– it was as simple as grocery shopping for him, only returning home with his shirt all bloody and ripped. Young Megumi would eye his clothing curiously, his gaze wide and innocent, but would be too scared to utter a word. He knows his father has a terrible temper.

This routine continued until Megumi got older, into his late teens, when Toji thought it would be appropriate to start telling the young man about what he did. Then in his early twenties he started taking him along on his sinister missions, hunting. Lacking any formal education or training, he doubted his son would be of any use. 

But Megumi had become intelligent and strong in his solitude, reading for entertainment and experimenting with his powers, his shikigami the only life forms to keep him company.

Despite his independence, having Toji as his only guiding light led the younger man to have a somewhat twisted view on reality, and as far as sound moral judgement goes, he simply does not possess it. 

As an assassin, Toji likes a quick kill; clean and efficient, usually with a gun or a knife. He can get paid faster that way, delivering the body swiftly and avoiding any trouble.

But he’s noticed his son taking a liking to finishing his victims more personally.

⁺⋆

Another murderous evening had drawn to a close, their hands stained red once again, when he carelessly took his eyes off his son and their victim.  

A young, powerful sorceress who’d seemingly pissed off the wrong crowd. Still, a surprisingly easy target for the assassin in training.

“Megumi, s’time to go,” the older man wipes his knife and cautiously looks along the alleyway.

His son is unresponsive. 

Toji gets closer, squinting in the dark to find his hands wrapped around her neck. 

She’s still alive, barely, but clinging on nonetheless, fading in and out of consciousness. 

“What are you doing? Just– just fucking–” 

“Wait”

The younger man’s stern voice halts Toji from slitting her throat.

And he watches his son squeeze the life out of the young woman. 

His lips twitch when her eyes roll back. But still, his hand remains over her windpipe, feeling her pulse die when the last breaths escape her body. 

“Megumi. We need to go.”

His son finally pulls away, and they become invisible once more. 

Despite his grisly methods, not only did Megumi prove useful, but their missions also provided for some much needed father-son bonding time. 

So, with his son reaching 25 years old, they got into this gruesome habit together, becoming partners.

Another habit Megumi picked up from the older man was his tendency to visit strip clubs after their kill. They were great places to hide, especially if you knew the owners well enough. And Toji knew each and every member of staff in this place; the managers, the bar staff, the girls.

And he knew a certain pretty little girl very well indeed.

Despite his many visits he never made any inappropriate advances, only paid to watch you dance. Maybe a lap dance every now and again if he was feeling particularly self gratuitous.

You share few words, but seem to have a mutual understanding of one another. You know that he loves watching you, and you’ve come to like his stern demeanour and surprisingly respectful attitude, enjoying his ability to scare off creepy customers. He’s kind of like your personal bodyguard at work. You feel lucky to have met him.

Unlike some of the halfwit scumbags that frequent the club, he’s a real man. From his assertive, deep tones, those muscles, perfect for manhandling little girls like you, and those sharp eyes, staring as if he wants your body as much as you want his.

But you have no idea what he does for work– he almost seems nocturnal.

Then you notice that he starts bringing someone else to the club.

His younger brother? His son? You can’t tell. But you know for certain that they’re related as soon as they step in together– their hair is styled differently, but is the same absolute black. The strobe lighting illuminates different colours in the younger man’s eyes, but they have the same glare. Their faces are a slightly different shape, but they have the same wicked smile. 

How could there be two of him? One was already enough.

“Meet my son.” 

Oh. He might be the same age as me. You think, studying his features– bags under his eyes, more height than muscle, cheeks slightly sunken. 

His exchanges are awkward. He looks uncomfortable.

You offer him a dance, not knowing what else to do. You’re here to work, after all.

Toji pays for a private dance and you walk with his son to a booth, the older man giving him a wink and a devilish smile.

You draw the curtains and pause, looking at the way he’s fidgeting. 

“Got a girlfriend?”

“No,” he replies tersely, narrowing his eyes. 

You ask if he wants a lap dance, but he’s so hesitant that you just end up sitting next to him and chatting instead.

“So, do you enjoy working here?” he sounds less nervous now he’s gotten to know your name, at least. 

“Yeah, nice customers for the most part, but the hours are pretty long.”

“Same with my job– the hours, I mean.”

“You don’t work with the public?”

“Sort of…” he trails off, dark eyes darting over your features.

You notice, despite your clothing revealing most of your body to him, that he’s focusing on your lips more than anything.

“You’re um,” he takes a long pause, dragging his gaze back to your eyes, “very pretty.”

How sweet. Your eyes widen slightly, a smile forming on your lips. You’re not used to sweet. 

“Th-thank you.” you can’t help the stuttering– the way he’s looking at you with sudden intensity catches your tongue.

“Shall we–” you reach to open the curtain of the private booth, your arm caught in his strong grip, your body freezing. 

“You– you can’t touch me–” does he not know that?

“Sorry” he retracts his hand, fiddling with his fingers. 

“You change your mind or something?”

“No, I just wanted to… look at you, for a little longer,” you turn to face him again, “if that’s ok.”

So you nod and sit down.

He has a hungry look in his eyes now– he starts with your face, your eyes, in fact, making incredible, unwavering contact until you can’t take it, your pupils darting away to his amusement. Then he finds your mouth, and the way you’re chewing the inside of your cheek.

Then your neck, where he focuses intently on the slow thrum of your jugular. He licks his lips, making you squirm and wish he would’ve accepted the lap dance.

His gaze darts over the rest of your body and you watch the clock tick over to midnight, signalling fifteen minutes and the end of his private… whatever the fuck this was.

“Time’s up.” You stand and reach for the curtain, feeling his eyes remain over your figure as you step out and waltz back to the changing rooms. 

You get off early tonight, having a final smoke with your colleagues when you see a text pop through from Toji. After exchanging numbers months ago, he barely contacts you, only asking where you are if you’re not at your regular shift.

[00:14] Toji 

Come over?

You’re surprised he’s asking. 

You’re tempted– after all, it is for Toji. You’ve been wanting him to reach out to you, thinking that he would’ve made his move much sooner. Every cell in your body is telling you not to do this, but you ignore the feeling, finding his hotel.

You enter the room– luckily for you, in a slightly nicer establishment than usual– still, one that is filled with the smell of alcohol and cannabis, the TV blaring on some late night gambling channel.

So they sit you down, welcoming you into their little games and bets, offering you hard liquor and joints till you’re tipsy. 

After Toji’s multiple visits to your workplace, and seeing you at other clubs with your friends, he knows you’re into all kinds of drugs. 

He caught you with white powder under your nose on one occasion, your pupils the size of the fucking moon another night, and with a blunt hanging out your mouth after work one evening.

He’s seen it all. He knows you’re a fiend. So… what’s the harm in pushing you a little further? Surely you can take it.

⁺⋆

Your eyelids are growing heavy, your body slumped on the floor against the coffee table while you stare at the TV in stupor. Their joints were just so packed it's nearly finished you off, and the last few drags tasted kinda funny.

“Can we tie her up now?” 

You’re not sure if you heard that right, swivelling in the direction of the voice and blinking in disbelief.

You turn to find Toji with his legs spread wide, slouched back on the sofa where you left him, while the younger man stands holding some kind of cord in his hands. 

Your eyes widen, your mind jolting awake when you see the way he pulls and grips it, stepping closer to you. Your body lags. 

“Mm” Toji grunts, not taking his eyes off the TV. 

Megumi takes this as permission to pull you up and drag you to the bedroom, your legs stumbling after your body, your mind succumbing to panic. 

His hand tugs at your wrist, while you’re distracted by something strange in the edges of your vision. It’s subtle to start with, colours fading in where they weren’t before, shadows starting to move. 

You try to ignore it, blaming the weed and flickering lights playing tricks on your mind.

You’re pulled from your daze when Megumi jerks your arms roughly, your vision readjusting to find yourself on the bed, your wrists forced to the frame in a tight knot of coarse, black rope.

“Mm– Megumi,” your voice comes out more slurred than you expected, confusion crossing your features, “w-what’re you doin’...”

“What does it look like?” He shoots back, his sharp tone making you recoil.

“I, I don’ know– jus’, w-where’s Toji?”

He watches your eyes dart about, enjoying your fearful expression.

You notice a sinister glint behind his indigo irises, his face looming closer and starting to cloud your vision.

You’re squirming now, pushing yourself up the bed, trying to distance yourself from him. But he keeps coming.

“Stay still…” he stops your motions with a single cool hand closing around your ankle, dark eyes trained on your throat again.

Time stops still when he leans in and places a single, chaste kiss over your neck.

He does it slowly. Gently. As if you’re the only one he’d kiss like this. His silent intensity makes you tremble.

He pulls away with a pleased hum, the feeling of your heartbeat making his lips tingle, his dark mess of hair illuminated with a dull halo.

He’s not too far gone. You could still go back.

“Y-you don’ have to do this,” you stumble, your voice cracking.

“I know,” he presses another kiss over your jaw, becoming ravenous now he can almost smell your fear, “but I want to…”

His voice disappears into the crook of your neck, where he starts sucking and tonguing.

He wants to taste you.

There’s a deep ache inside you now, gripping at your heart and filling your lungs, where it spreads to your throat– to where you can feel his mouth over you.

Nobody has ever kissed you like this before.

The way he sucks and bites is cruel, your body starting to flood with pain. If he does it any harder you’re sure he’s going to taste your blood. He’s going to puncture your neck and let it spill.

“M-megumi– please–” your whispered sobs only urge him on, till he’s dragging his canines over you and sinking them into the soft flesh.

His impassioned movements finally ebb as he switches to tending your marked skin with his tongue and lips, inhaling your scent deeply.

He sits up now, looking longingly into your tear stained eyes, his pupils drifting to where your lips are quivering with his name.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he lies, stroking your ankles gently.

Standing up, he watches you shake your head again, begging him not to go any further and that you’d anticipated being with Toji tonight, asking where he is again.

“He’s a little busy…” he cranes his neck to ensure his father is still transfixed by the TV.

“Plus, you should be grateful,” he tugs off his belt, “you get to take my virginity.”

Your eyes fly wide, your mouth dry and gulping for air stupidly.

Just the way he looks puts you on edge– and now you know he has no experience, you can’t begin to fathom what he’s going to do to you.

“Nn-no– thought, thought Toji w-w–”

His next movements are too swift for your idle, drug induced brain to comprehend.

He’s over you, your arms twisted uncomfortably above your head, his cock nudging at the sweet bud of your clit.

That’s the only ‘foreplay’ you’ll be treated to before he slots himself up against your tight, unprepped entrance, shoving your dress and panties aside.

“Toji!!!” you cry out for the older man, “Toji, god–” but your voice is interrupted, choked by his cock sinking into you, hard and deep.

The man before you has changed, his resting scowl paling in comparison to the now fierce arch of his eyebrows.

Why are you crying for his father when he has everything you need right here?

“Ah– haah—” you shake and squirm, struggling with his untamed, crude thrusting.

Your head flies back when he pushes deeper still, slowly working your raw pussy open to the shape of him, while he watches fresh tears trickling over your waterline and gathering beautifully in the corners of your wide, glassy eyes.

“Hm,” he lets a little laugh escape, enjoying your quiet sobbing and whimpering as he gets rougher and dirtier, grabbing and marking your skin.

Your arms start to jostle and tug in the bindings, your wrists aching from the pressure.

“Untie me…” you sniffle.

“Untie you? But I haven’t even got started yet…”

He wipes the tears from your cheeks with his thumb, trailing his hand down your face and stroking the marks on your neck.

“Might untie you after I hear you scream,” he gives you an experimental squeeze, then leans closer, bringing his face down next to yours.

The way he’s talking has you wondering if he really is a virgin, your thought quickly dispelled by his hedonistic thrusting.

You can hear his shaky breath in your ear now, your legs lifting instinctively when you feel him haphazardly pressing on your g-spot.

“Yeah, open up f’me,” he whispers, sucking on your earlobe, his free arm encircling your head to cage you in closer.

You can feel his hips start to jolt unevenly. He’s close.

“D-don– don’ cum inside,” you beg, your eyes getting bleary as he constricts your windpipe.

You feel him smirking over your skin, speeding up his ragged motions, squeezing.

Your pained breaths consume him, urging him to crush your throat with a look in his eyes that makes you believe he’s going to take your life.

His pale, beautiful face hovers above yours, eyes enrapt by every miniscule expression of terror that passes your features.

“S-s—” 

Your voice is gone, you can only fight for breath now, your body succumbing to a helpless fit.

You struggle. Kicking. Hips bucking.

He drinks it all in, thrusting mercilessly now.

“You can’t do that to her.” 

You hear a sudden deep, booming voice, hands pulled from your neck, air flooding your lungs as you sputter and cough.

Toji takes his son’s arms and bends them behind his back, restraining him instantly and pulling him off you; out of you.

He lets the sight sink in for a moment, words failing him. 

Toji’s affected by the drugs and booze, but he can still get some kind of hold on this fucked up situation.

“Look. Just let me show you… what you’re supposed to do,” he drawls into the younger man’s ear before releasing him.

Sure, he needs to take responsibility. But he can’t let you go. Not yet.

You shake your head again, watching the younger man struggling with his achy, hard boner after being denied his first raw dogging orgasm.

His father readjusts you on the bed to his own liking, leaving you tied up and taking your thighs in his beefy hands. He dips his head low, lips skimming over your neglected clit. 

“‘M feelin’ hungry…” he mutters, proceeding to swirl his tongue through your heat, where his son’s cock was digging moments ago, humming while parting your labia and licking sensually at your little jewel.

However done you are with this situation, overcome with lightheadedness from your choking, you’re glad to at least be sent reeling through a few much needed orgasms.

And now you’ve had a chance to breathe and relax a little, you’re becoming aware of a shift in your consciousness. 

Your body is right here, in this moment, experiencing every fleeting detail in high definition. But your mind is somewhere else, overcome with a feeling of simultaneous presence and dissociation. 

The older man sits up, patting the bed for his son to join him.

“You ok, doll?”

He watches you look around curiously, taking in the room that’s now bending and changing before you.

“Think the lsd’s kickin’ in…” he mutters, “just lay back, promise we’re not gunna hurt ya.”

“The-the what?” you stutter, your hands starting to tense and grip in the restraints.

“Look, there were a few drops of acid in that last wrap, jus’ relax, ok?”

Fuck. You knew you shouldn’t have come here.

You let it sink in, taking a deep breath so you don’t lose your cool. You cannot let your mind spiral on this drug.

“That’s it,” he encourages you, “good girl. Jus’ let go.”

You give up trying to fight it, obeying his gentle tones, working past the nausea to find your mind and body entering a different headspace.

Reality fades in and out, feeling their tongues on you, one after the other, switching and exchanging till you’re unaware of what’s happening to you.

You can only sense their touch, submitting your body to the chemical pleasure.

Your clothes are torn off now, soft, deep words being exchanged until you feel them shifting around.

You feel the unmistakable nudging of a hardened cock at your entrance once more. Only this time, it slips through your folds easily, your slick hole welcoming the long, hard member.

You blink slowly, your vision wobbling as your mind enters a trance in sync with their rhythm.

“Megumi?” no, “Toji?” you honestly can’t tell, your faculties slowly dulling as the powerful drug takes over.

You reach out your arms hoping to discern who’s inside you, only for their body to move away as another frame enters your view.

You feel his cock sink in, hips rolling and stimulating your senses till you’re creaming and moaning around his girth.

“T-tojii–” you’re sure it must be the older man. He feels strong, manhandling you and pushing you wider.

But he pulls away too soon.

You focus hard, seeing both of them now, one figure in front of the other, one man guiding, the other following.

“...like this… take her… deep…” you can only make out a few words, wide eyes distracted by the scar on his lips.

But the way Megumi’s cock slides in is completely different than before– the feral jackhammering transformed into long drags, smooth and hard.

They exchange words, Megumi’s movements getting greedier until you feel his body consuming yours in a display of lust and passion so strong you let out a scream of his name.

The sound of your voice, combined with the grip of your pussy that’s drenched with the slick of a fresh orgasm, rips a groan from his depths.

You hear him panting and moaning, his thrusts getting sloppy, until he’s drawn out of you again.

That was close. You think, realising his father pulled him away before he could spill inside you.

Things are getting blurry now. They’re both over you, on you, in you.

With the surreal visuals taking over, your mind enters another realm while they kiss and fuck and share your body.

Spiky black hair, blue and green eyes flashing, hard muscles and sadistic smiles are all you can see.

Their images burn into your retina, becoming a blurred mirage of nightmarish beauty. 

A sight that you will never forget.

Now that Toji’s brought his son up to speed and you’re all wet, you honestly can’t tell who is who.

So you sink into it, enjoying the spiralling visions behind your closed eyelids while they draw waves of orgasmic pleasure from your body.

They bend and move you, pinning your legs back, pushing deeper, then onto your knees. You’re getting so absorbed in the trip now, the euphoric energy taking over, that you’re only partly aware that you’re being lifted.

You’re off the bed, you know that much.

You’re in a pair of strong arms. It’s Toji. You smile, your eyes clearing to see his roguishly handsome face before you.

“Hey pretty girl,” he places tender kisses over your lips, and you accept them with pleasure, “gunna try somethin’ fun now…”

You giggle, liking the sound of that very much.

He holds you, his massive cock melting into your core so deep he’s going to become a part of you, then slides his fingers over your ass.

You feel another body behind you. Megumi.

You turn, feeling his lips over you as well, murmuring sweet praise in your ear the whole while.

You feel him sliding over your ass now, through the wet juice of your pussy, pushing into the tight ring.

“Oh, oh my– fuck–” he edges in, his father thrusting slowly while urging him to be gentle.

“Haahhh–” you breathe out, your head falling back onto Megumi’s hard shoulder where he caresses your skin with his lips.

“That’s– that’s fucking good,” he hums in your ear, pushing himself all the way back while grabbing your ass.

They cradle you, thrusting in tandem, as you reach a new level of bliss.

Hearing them, feeling them takes you higher, until you can only sense their deep moans vibrating through you, the drag of their cocks.

Your thoughts turn slippery, losing focus on the world around you, wondering how you ended up here in the first place, realising that you don’t care.

Right now, you care about the man in front of you, tall and broad, scarred lip between his teeth with dark green eyes fixed on yours.

His ever sombre stare resides behind those fiery irises.

It captivates you.

Your body is convulsing with dopamine once more, slurred thank yous leaving your lips, and all you can concentrate on is counting the shades of green in his eyes.

Flecks of amber shimmer within the emerald, his lashes blinking slowly, eyebrows quirking.

“Watcha lookin’ at?”

“Mm, pretty,” is all you can muster at this time, earning a snort of laughter.

He mutters under his breath and starts taking you harder till you feel him pulling you off his son and pushing you down on the bed.

Your legs spread, wide and obedient, holding yourself by the knees while he takes your nipples between his lips, between his teeth.

“How many times s’that now?” he feels you clenching and bucking again.

You just giggle and sigh, stroking his obsidian strands in a dreamy state.

He hums with pleasure; you feel his nose dipping into your neck, where he places soft, gentle kisses, in contrast to his now animalistic pace.

Letting off hot grunts and moans, he finally spills his hot, wet cum.

He pulls away, his son entering your vision once more.

Angling your ass up, he guides himself in again, enjoying the way your tight muscle spasms around him, but takes him all nonetheless.

His hips get nasty, drawing whimpers from you until he nears his release, growling and sinking his teeth into your marked skin.

“Fuck– fuck–” you tug at his jet black spikes, encouraging him to take all he needs until you feel his hot load shoot deep into you.

“Ugh, oh princess– fuck me–” he sighs, strong muscles overcome with exhaustion as he watches your beautiful features relax once more.

You feel peaceful, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the way his hair hangs over those dark eyes.

Your wavering vision absorbs his graceful figure in all his glory, your mouth opening before your brain catches up.

“Art” you poke at his hardened stomach, earning a slight smile, “artist.” You look up at his father now, appreciating the view as he stands before you.

You giggle, laying back and focusing on the ebb and flow of your breath, feeling your senses leave you, your eyes resting as you enter transcendental sleep.

⁺⋆

You wake to find your body bare, but clean.

There’s no longer white liquid oozing from you– just soft, warm sheets and the fresh smell of soap.

You climb out of the bed, stepping to the bathroom, eyes still half lidded and hazy.

You look in the mirror, finding kaleidoscopic visuals in the reflection, where the glass bends and trembles.

But you can see your face. Unscathed. Unharmed. You look down. It’s just a few bruises. You’re fine. 

Despite their questionable methods, this has been a good trip… and you have to admit, a very good fuck.

So in your giddy state, you tiptoe out to the main room, watching their heads turn from the TV, grins emerging.

“Mornin’ honey,” Toji coos. It’s dark outside. You have no idea what time it is.

You step over to the sofa, sinking between the two men again, taking their lips and tongues while their hands roam and fondle your body.

You sit back, enjoying how they’re drawn to you magnetically, allowing their pleasure to fill your body once more while you ride out the most ethereal high of your life.

⋆⁺ [see you in hell]

toji | m.list

[frozenjokes]

scar requests cubfan135 chill out with all the homocide. this goes poorly BUT scar has a lasso!!! nothing bad happens after that

ao3 link

LOOP 17

Scar woke up.

He did not catch himself, he never did, but chest and muzzle slamming against the hardwood floor hurt so much worse today. Months. Months he hadn’t had to die. He didn’t have the strength to pull himself up off his knees; mentally, yes, but physically, fuck, this was so much worse than he’d- fuck. He didn’t want to do this. He couldn’t do this again, and again and again and again- finding another layout fit to start the puzzle again would be so much of this, arms shaking, stomach hollow. He felt smaller. He was sure he was.

His Little, always in his arms, was gone. That might have shaken him more than his death in the first place.

How could Cleo have done this? Reset everything? She didn’t even- she didn’t even try! Cub wanted her to try and she didn’t-

Scar released a heavy breath. He took a few more, then pushed himself to his feet. How had he lived like this? He’d felt the difference in his strength and energy after his time spent alone, he’d certainly felt it, but..

He wasn’t even sure he had the energy to argue with them now. He was so tired. Had it been getting late? Maybe it didn’t matter. If dragging his feet through the hall to the safe room wouldn’t have killed him, he wouldn’t have bothered putting the effort in.

Cub had not gotten out of bed. Cleo was only sitting on the edge of theirs, staring dead at the floor. She looked up when Scar pushed inside.

“Oh, shit.” There was apathy there, but a shaky concern breached the surface, enough to make Cub look up. He didn’t speak, but stared long enough for Scar to know there was a noticeable physical difference. Yeah.. he didn’t have the thick fur to hide the way his skin stretched over his bones. He didn’t like looking at the humans like this; being seen so clearly.

“Have anything to say, Cleo?” Scar hissed instead, tail lashing in his discomfort.

Cleo frowned, shaking her head. “He was going to die, Scar. We could not finish without him. It sucks, I know it sucks, but I’m not going to draw out anyone’s suffering for a lost cause. I’m just sorry you don’t get to start the loop in a good state. We.. we’ll try again soon. As soon as everyone’s ready.” Cub grunted softly, but Cleo ignored him. “We got pretty unlucky during the last walkthrough period. It shouldn’t take nearly that long next time.”

“Cub wanted you to try, you didn’t even try.”

Cleo snorted, “I did try. You saw all the first aid shit all over the place. Cub doesn’t like to start over, but he would do the same thing if our positions were swapped. He has done the same thing. This isn’t our first rodeo. This isn’t the first time we’ve tried pushing on with a horrible injury either, but if we don’t die from something like blood loss, we go to infection, and if we miraculously survive something like that, it’s months of agony and working around a new disability the escape rooms weren’t designed for. We don’t have the supplies or the training to treat these kinds of injuries for a reason.”

“The puzzles aren’t meant to be solved to completion,” Cub mumbled, “We aren’t meant to escape.”

“Wh-” Scar whipped his head in a hard shake, ear pinned back as far as it could go, “Why, then? What’s the point?”

Cub and Cleo were quiet. They looked at each other, a brief glance turned long, tired. Cleo sighed through their nose. “They don’t know what to do with us. I think I told you that already, but it’s true. They don’t want us dead yet, we’re either too accomplished to kill or too weird; a mix of both if I’m being honest. Both of us are at risk of a random, spontaneous death, which no one wants because we’re too valuable to lose. Neither of us can be left unsupervised. Cub will go right back to environmental genocide and they’re worried I’m going to turn contagious or something, which is completely ridiculous. I’m done with necromancy, the damn government doesn’t have a thing to worry about, but.” Cleo shrugged. “So there’s a time component. That’s the bulk of it. There’s also the fact that both of us are at risk of going insane in one way or another, not that Cub isn’t already sitting in that bucket. I guess it’s no skin off Earth’s back either way.”

“Only clinically, and what the fuck do they know. You’re just as volatile as me,” Cub huffed, but Cleo continued without acknowledgment.

“A lot can change in ten years. There currently isn’t enough research on necromancy and the sculk for the humans on Earth to utilize the skills or the- just figure out what the hell is going on with Cub really, he isn’t particularly useful beyond the knowledge of Being An Extremely Bad Thing that the sculk managed to create. They need to puzzle out how that happened and how to stop it from happening again. They weren’t ready for Cub yet, so they launched him into space where he can’t hurt anyone. Simple. God knows the horrible fucking things they want me for, but they’re not getting shit. I’m perfectly happy being the only person in the whole damn universe to come back on her own. I don’t know what I’m in for after this but I.. already lost everything. Bought myself a new life at the cost of my old one. It was pretty stupid to think everything would just.. go back to normal.” Cleo sighed, but Scar wasn’t in a pitying mood.

“So it’s impossible. It’s impossible to get out early. This is all just something to do, something to work for so you don’t go insane- as if both of you are sane, come on! Why didn’t you tell me!?”

“It’s not impossible,” Cub mumbled, but Cleo elaborated when he did not.

“It’s been done, and unless we’re being lied to, every puzzle designed on this ship is solvable. It’s hard, but it’s possible.”

“There's a chance the puzzles aren’t possible!?” Scar felt lightheaded. Cub and Cleo were quiet for a long time.

“Better not to think about it. It doesn’t matter. Without fail, Scar, you will believe once you finish that first room that you can do it all. That this is the one. That you’re going to get out of here in a few short months. Because you have to. Because there is nothing else to do but play the game.” Cleo sighed, “In the end.. I don’t think the puzzles are impossible. Even when we get stuck, we usually push through before one of us kicks it. It’s just.. six months is a long time to be perfect. That’s a long time not to make a mistake. Plenty of time to get complacent, to get tired, one trap is all it takes, and it’s more than likely you trip more than one over the course of so many months. That’s what makes it impossible.” They stopped, correcting, “Unlikely.”

“Unlikely,” Scar repeated, the word like poison against his tongue. “That’s not fair.”

“It’s not fair,” Cub agreed, sitting up. “Well. I’m going to go make this everyone else’s problem. Goodbye.”

“Wait- What are you doing-? Where are you going?” Scar tried to catch Cub’s sleeve as he slipped past, but Cub ducked left out of reach, not looking back and not responding. “What is he doing?” Scar whirled to Cleo, who shrugged, unconcerned.

“Probably gonna challenge himself to make some device that kills both of us at the same time. Something like that.”

“What!? No!” But Cub was already disappearing through the door to the control room hall, Scar staring helplessly when he was not acknowledged. “This- No. We are not doing this again.”

Cleo snorted, not looking up from where she had settled back on her bed. “Good luck.” Apparently Scar’s movement caught their eye, because they looked up when Scar began to march toward the door. “Is that- Where did you get that? Is that a fucking lasso? Have you always had that?”

Scar did not answer, throwing open the door and pushing inside, holding the loop of his lasso firmly, twirling it above his head. “Cub!”

Cub hesitated on the other half of the hall, surely stopping in his tracks at Scar’s commanding proclamation.

“Is that. What is that. Is that a fucking lasso? Have you always had that?”

“Quiet! You are going to walk your ass right back to the safe room mister, and we are going to talk this out. No more killing each other! No more murder! You agreed to this.”

“I literally never said that.” Cub stared, eyes flicking from Scar to his lasso, intimidated by his prowess. “There’s no way you get me with that. Not from all the way across the room, no way.”

“Are you so sure?”

“I am one hundred percent sure, where the fuck did you get that?”

With the precision and accuracy only possessed by the members of the ScarFire mercenaries, Scar threw his lasso, catching Cub by the shoulders and forcing him back, Cub would SURELY REGRET doubting Scar’s abilities , being dragged face first across the floor as he was.

Scar did not hear the machine gun click behind him, but he saw the piano fall behind Cub, a near miss as Scar’s back was sprayed by bullets, an arrow shot from the other side of the room finding purchase in his shoulder. Scar only knew blood as he wheezed for breath, Cub seeming to have disappeared in the seconds Scar closed his eyes, a hole in the floor and a muted splash serving as explanation. Ah.. So he may have miscalculated.

LOOP 18

Scar went to the safe room as fast as his legs would carry him there, weak as he was, but Cub was not going to run away from him.

Scar caught him just as Cub’s hand reached the hall doorknob, the lasso snatching his neck, pulling just hard enough to unbalance Cub until Scar could get ahold of the scruff of his coat. Cub gagged, pulling at the noose, but there was no more escape.

Behind him, Cleo clapped quietly, and Scar preened with his quarry in hand. Plucking Cub off the ground, he dragged him over to Cleo’s bed, dropping him once satisfied. Cub was quiet, effectively neutralized, and only attempted to bite once or twice when Scar removed the loop from his neck.

“You’ve gotten much faster,” Cleo said, giving Cub a pitying pat on the back. “You’ll get ‘em next time.”

“No he won’t. No more getting anyone.” Scar crossed his arms, tail tip flicking when Cleo rolled her eyes. “This is not healthy!! You two are horribly desensitized to all this violence, and that’s coming from someone whose job it is to kill people like you.” Scar began removing his space suit as he talked, shaking his head. “You two are friends. You’re meant to be friendly with each other.”

“Your imagination is not broad enough to comprehend the ways in which I am going to hurt you,” Cub growled, to which Scar corrected him with a small cuff.

“Those are the kind of words I don’t want to hear anymore. This is not normal behavior. You two- especially you, Cub, need a serious murder detox! There has to be something more productive you could be doing with your time, for goodness’s sakes, something more fun.“

“We could fuck,” Cleo suggested, nudging Cub teasingly.

“I-“ Scar wasn’t entirely sure what to do with that, opening and closing his mouth, “Yeah- sure, I guess you could do that.”

“We could.” Cub huffed, “I guess. But I want the lasso.”

Scar gaped for a moment before holding his lasso closer to his chest. “Please- Don’t defile my lasso.”

“Where did that come from anyway?” Cleo asked, picking the other end of the rope up off the ground and looping it through their fingers, which Scar was suddenly much less comfortable with.

“I’ve always had it! Right in the bag- holster thing on my suit.”

“Would’ve been nice to know,” Cub mumbled, to which Scar gave him a couple hard bats, “Didn’t know we were stranded with a prude, yeesh.”

“Yeesh,” Cleo assented, more than amused with whatever was happening here, “Well you’re going to have to get over it. It’s this or getting violently dismembered, probably.”

“You’re still getting dismembered.”

“Hey! I’m not- fine, take the stupid lasso I don’t care. Not ‘yeesh,’ I’m not a prude. Do whatever you want. I’ll be in the control room if you need me. Just- Get it out of your system.” Scar did not wait for a response before leaving them to it. Cub and Cleo weren’t really food to him anymore, not really, but similarly to how he’d feel seeing two animals go at it in the wild, he was uninterested. At least he got a warning.

So he waited. He called Mumbo, let him know everything was okay; as okay as it could be at least. The loop had reset, and he was having some trouble with the humans, but he was somewhat optimistic they would work it out. At the very least Cub had better behave after this; Scar didn’t like giving up his lasso for.. however they intended on using it. He left that detail out of his recounting to Mumbo, who still wrinkled his nose in distaste.

“Nuisance creatures, they are.”

Scar shrugged, “They’re alright. I’d rather they be frustrated like this than bashing each other’s heads in, you know.”

“Bad or worse, I suppose.” In hindsight, Mumbo was a little bit of a prude.

But Scar didn’t talk to him for more than a half hour, wanting to savor his time over the rest of the week. He didn’t think the humans would be much longer; this was already quite a bit of time to be messing around- he was pretty sure at least. He couldn’t say he knew all that well. At least there was a clock in here, so Scar had the privilege of being painfully aware of the hours as they passed.

He didn’t know what to do. He had assumed one of the humans would come around and let him know when they were done, but Scar hadn’t asked them to. But what if human mating rituals were extremely lengthy? Scar didn’t know! It would make sense if they hadn’t thought to tell him either; this wouldn’t be the first time the humans assumed things were the same on Scar’s planet as it was on theirs. Oh, this was terrible. He couldn’t even knock on the door! The rooms were soundproof- Scar didn’t think they’d hear it.

After three hours, he’d had enough. He was just going to crack open the door and ask; if he saw or heard anything, he’d leave them in peace right away! More power to them! Hopefully by the end they’d be tired, no more murderous intention. At least for today.

Creeping down the hall as if he were afraid of being caught, he hesitated when he reached the door.

It was dark. Oh. Was it night time? Scar couldn’t remember what time night started, but they’d turned the lights off, so it must be now. The humans didn’t really darken the room otherwise. It would make sense. Scar was pretty tired himself.. maybe he should have napped while he was waiting.

“Cleo?” Scar waited, but there was no answer. “Cub?” Still nothing, but Scar could hear quiet breathing through the crack. Well.. alright. He pushed through the door, closing it quickly behind him; he didn’t want the light to disturb the sleeping humans, a Cleo shaped lump in their bed all but confirming this truth. Maybe humans got really tired after mating; that would explain why they didn’t come get him.

Tip toeing inside, cool steel below his foot was the only warning before something snapped with a horrible crunch over his ankle, Scar hardly having time to scream before his legs were yanked out from under him, back slamming into the floor before he was hoisted upwards by his shattered ankle, agony beyond his wildest nightmares wrenching a ragged screech from throat. Something sharp hacked at his lower back, but Scar lacked the wherewithal to know if he’d been cut as his belt and all his holsters tumbled to the floor.

“Help. Help!” the words ripped their way out of his throat with a hoarse sob, he was spinning, spinning, upside down, his leg, his ankle, it had to stop, please, someone had to remove the pressure from his ankle. Desperation surfaced in a surge of strength to heave himself up, cut the tie keeping him suspended, but that effort put even more weight on his shattered ankle, and crying out, he went limp. “Cleo- Cub, please, please!”

As Scar spun, slowly, surely facing the beds once more, he became increasingly aware of the stillness of Cleo’s form, dread dropping like a stone in his stomach, seeming to plummet all the way down to his throat and lodging itself in his jaw. He could still scream, however, and certainly did when something grabbed the base of his scuff, yanking. Thrumming new agony pulsed down his leg, stomach, chest, every part of his body sharing the flame that exploded out from his foot, which Scar was sure would fall off if his leg didn’t disconnect itself from his body first.

“Scar.” Cub held him firm at the back of his neck, and Scar feared resistance would liven the pain and panic that had already blinded him. “It has occurred to me that you have misunderstood the dynamic of our situation here. Let’s just talk it out, that’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“Cub. Cub- Let me down. Let me down, please, please, Cub let me down.” From his limited point of view, Scar could see the thick pipes at the ceiling that Cub had used to hoist him into the air, one end tied to the steel toothed trap locked around his bloody ankle that was leaking all the way down his leg. The grip of Scar’s scruff tightened.

“You think you can control me, Scar. You think you can control me, is that right? Hold me down, tell me how it is- Let me tell you how it is, right? How things are going to be here, yeah?” Cub was so angry, so angry, Scar felt his spit on the black of his neck when he screamed, “I know what I am!”

“I’m sorry- Cub, I’m sorry, please let me go.”

“Your room is a hunting lodge, did you know? Or were you out of there too fast to see it, out to get me, you know you can overpower me, Scar, but I’m smarter than you, and I'm starting to get sick of you people getting in my way.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you-” Scar didn’t get to finish before being whipped into a spin, the agony acute and fiery and so much impossibly worse than before, Scar still dizzied even when Cub caught him again, this time by the throat.

“Look at me.”

Scar tried, he tried, even through the terror, even through the darkness at the edges of his vision and the white spots dancing across his eyes. But he tried, and he saw it, he saw exactly what Cub meant him to see, the spots of light tattooed over his dark brown irises standing out like two irradient stars fighting the haze of thousands of years of light pollution. Scar couldn’t usually see it so clearly with Cub’s thick glasses catching so much glare from the fluorescent lights, but without them, there was no hiding those spots he desperately wanted the rest of the world to see.

“I’ve become exactly what it needs me to be. There’s no person anymore, Scar, there is nothing left to fix or save. I will do whatever I please with you until I return to Earth, and maybe they’ll watch me, they’ll see exactly what I’m capable of, and still they’re so stupid they won’t know to be afraid. I know- I know what I am! I’m meant to be everywhere! I need to spread.”

Cub did not move when Scar wound back, but what scared Scar more than anything is that Cub did not flinch when he raked his claws through the human’s face, deep, catching under his left eyelid, splitting his broad nose and busting the edge of his lip. Scar saw the pale red of stunned skin before blood caught up with the cuts, leaking out in dark clots, and still Cub did not move, he did not blink.

“I’m scared. I’m scared, Cub.” What a stupid, silly thing to say. Calling out to a man who was no longer trying to hear him. No, no, Scar believed him. This was not a man anymore.

“It’s okay,” he said, too tender to be soothing. Cub drew a hand over his face, he moved like he’d forgotten how to use his own limbs, wrist and fingers limp as his forearm guided his hand from his forehead to his chin, collecting the blood that Scar had drawn. “You can still be part of something bigger.”

Scar did not expect Cub to be able to grab him with such precision, thumb and forefinger hooked around the corners of his jaw, pushing, forcing Scar’s muzzle open and driving his own bloodied hand inside. Scar bit him, he bit him because he was scared, he gagged on the fist that Cub seemed determined to choke him with, he cried when Cub cooed at him, then withdrew with the sentiment that Scar had done so well.

Scar struggled to shut his aching jaw, blood and saliva seeping through his teeth as Cub disappeared behind him. There was some kind of sawing sound, or maybe that was just Scar’s pounding head.

And then he fell. He fell and he screamed when he didn’t think he had the strength to scream any longer, he wailed as his legs hit the floor, he could have sworn his ankle might have snapped off, but he didn’t know, he couldn’t when his eyes were stung by hot tears. He did not have the strength to sit up. He whimpered when Cub’s fingers brushed behind his ear, petting softly.

“It’s more fun when it’s a game, isn’t it,” Cub mumbled, but Scar didn’t believe it was Cub anymore, “I can keep it together. For the sake of getting out of here, I can keep it together. But you get restless. Angry. I want to see the world, worlds, don’t you? I have to. Maybe you don’t feel that way. For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here.”

For Scar, ‘keeping it together’ seemed a monumental task, but he tried, tried to be still, move subtly, find one of the guns that Cub had cut loose from his hip. He didn’t know what Cub could see; very little apparently, but Scar hadn’t noticed any impairments or stumbling, not now. He was afraid, very afraid that Cub might try to keep him alive.

“Damn.. country roads,” Cub mumbled on, unfocused, “People drive so fast, don’t look where they’re going. I got hit, I leveled that car and it nearly killed me too, nearly.. That would have been better, I think. It would have been beautiful.” Briefly, Cub’s hand left Scar’s head to make a vague, poofing gesture, but it found its way back quickly, and Scar wondered if Cub was afraid to lose him. No, that was ridiculous. “Those damn headlights, it’s horrible in the dark. They just keep getting brighter, and why? I don’t like the light. Let the night stay dark, that’s what I think. It’s criminal. Those lights should be illegal.”

Scar was afraid to break eye contact, not that Cub was really looking at him, but Scar didn’t want him to start. Exploring with the hand furthest away from his captor, he finally found his belt. Crawling along the leather, he released a shaky breath when the first holster was out of reach.

“Are you hurting?” Cub did not ask like he expected an answer. Scar grimaced, pulling his belt closer, but the noise got Cub’s attention, turning, but he did not see, Scar was certain his eyes did not focus, so with great effort, Scar heaved himself upwards to redirect Cub’s attention, more noise to distract from his true intention.

“Don’t go,” Cub said, but Scar was more focused on his guns, his empty holsters, fuck, maybe it was obvious they’d bounce away from the fall? “Aren’t you dizzy? Why don’t you lay down. Close your eyes.”

He was dizzy. The idea of Cub's sculk being the cause made him sick to his stomach; he absolutely could not stay here and under no circumstances would he be closing his eyes. Seeing double, he managed to get eyes on one of his guns. Cub only watched as Scar dragged himself toward it.

“You’re tired, aren’t you?”

Cub would not be able to stop him. By the time understanding dawned on his form, Scar’s gun was already cocked. Cub did not speak before the bullet pierced his skull. Relief crashed out of Scar in a whimper, collapsing where he sat as the last of his energy left him. He really.. He really didn’t feel good. For the first time since he’d been dropped, he thought to check on his ankle, immediately wishing he hadn’t. Scar was.. starting to think Cub never intended on saving him. At that level of nearly severed, Scar was stunned it had ever held his entire body weight for so long. Ah..

Pain had lost all meaning at this point. Better, certainly, to lay down.. close his eyes..

[bakugosbratx]

Hi!! I hope this topic request is okay, but can i ask for rengoku/sanemi/tengen x gn reader comforting/protecting them after they've been bullied by their "friends"? if u cant do all three, any is fine. Thank u so much dear!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𝙆𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙟𝙪𝙧𝙤 𝙍𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙤𝙠𝙪 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

• Kyoujuro doesn’t show it, but he is livid. No matter your status, you mean a lot to him and the fact anyone ever dares to be mean to you is not okay. Especially if they pretended to be your friend?

• As you whimper in his strong arms, his calming scent filling your nostrils, you don’t even notice his eyes go dark.

• “Y/N, why don’t you go get cleaned up? I’ll handle your friends.” He stated, calmly, but the glare he delivered to your peers sent chills dancing down their spines.

• Nodding, you go to the restroom to clean up. Now, Kyoujuro’s evil side can come out and play.

• From there, Kyoujuro goes up to the group who was just laughing about whatever. Towering over the main one, he picked them up by the collar of their shirt and turn them around to face them.

• When the person weakly nods, his grip tightens. “Pathetic. How dare you claim to be their friend?” Kyoujuro tsks. “If you ever dare make Y/N cry again, I promise it will not end well for you. Understand me?”

• When the person weakly nods, his grip tightens. “Pathetic. How dare you claim to be their friend?” Kyoujuro tsks. “If you ever dare make Y/N cry again, I promise it will not end well for you. Understand me?”

• Fear dancing in the person irises as well as the crowd, they agreed. Dropping them to their feet, Kyoujuro goes back to attending to you with cuddles and preferred activities. Those “friends” will never mess with you again.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚𝙎𝙖𝙣𝙚𝙢𝙞 𝙎𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙯𝙪𝙜𝙖𝙬𝙖⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

• Sanemi is beyond livid.

• Sanemi is a loose canon on a good day, but anger him and it’s even worse.

• If there is one thing Sanemi don’t play about it’s you, so when he witnesses you crying, he is immediately ready to kick somebody’s ass.

• “Sanemi, it’s nothing.” You state with a shaky smile, not wanting to get anyone hurt.

• “Y/N, I’m giving you one last chance to tell me who the hell did this to you or I’ll find out myself.” He warns, attempting to be somewhat calm for you, but nothing can hide the venom that leaked through his gritted teeth.

• Knowing this is a losing battle, you give up the names of the people who were disrespecting you.

• I am going to be honest, Sanemi will just find them and beat their ass. Whether you told him or not. So, “you will not have to worry about them assholes again,” as Sanemi puts it. And he is sure to help you forget by doing something you would want to do — even if he doesn’t want to do it. He’ll do anything to see you smile.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𝙏𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙣 𝙐𝙯𝙪𝙞 ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

• Tengen ain’t the one.

• He’ll either comfort you by fucking your brains out if y’all are like that, but if not, he’ll cuddle you and watch a movie.

• Tengen isn’t going to react right away. He will definitely be more calculated, waiting a few days and catching them off guard.

• All you know is these “friends” don’t even bother to mess with you again because Tengen threatened their lives.

• “You even come near Y/N again, I promise you will regret it.” He growls, sending chills down their spines.

• He may even scruff them up a bit to show how serious he truly is.

Tags: @minxsane @nymphoheretic @ovarysnake23 @awilddreamerreads

More demon slayer works

©bakugosbratx

All Rights Reserved — I don’t give anyone permission to repost, distribute, copy or re-use my works in any way. Especially not on other websites such as Tik Tok, Ao3, Wattpad, etc.

[gerards-blood-4]

Why does it always feel like they're just using me

[thesiblingsoftheblackandwhite]

[[SEXUAL HARASSMENT (NO ACTUAL R*PE), VIOLENCE, GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF GORE, MURDER, IMPLIED MASOCHISM (?), “BIG BOY” AS A FLIRTATIOUS NICKNAME]]

The man hadn’t stopped following him.

Bliklotep hadn’t expected him to. It was nothing short of annoying. He just wanted to feed his brothers, and now he had to deal with this.

The man stumbles closer, clearly intoxicated. Ah, that explained it. Blinky watches him and weighs his chances before swaddling the raw meat in his sweater pocket to protect it. He walks away from the cover of the building he had been observing from.

Excuse me.

Looking closer, the man’s eyes are bloodshot and shaky. Blinky studies him silently. He’s certainly muscular, though the alcohol could diminish what strength he has. Blinky thinks of what to say.

I…saw you a few streets down.

He tries to go for a less “repulsed” look.

I saw you following me. And…

He bites his lip.

I think that was extremely attractive.

His own words displease him. The guy looks stunned and confused, but Blinky mostly catches a hunger in his eyes. His eyes flick to the empty beer bottle clutched in his fist. Sensing an entrance, he reluctantly pushes himself onto the man and wiggles the bottle out of his hand. It’s surprisingly easy.

You won’t be needing that.

He tosses it behind him. It shatters.

Now-

He blanks on what to say. Something flirty, most likely. Or at least something that will get him horny enough, not that that’ll be too hard.

Uh - daddy-

The term leaves a sour taste rising in his throat. He swallows it down, though it doesn’t fare much better swirling in his stomach.

I’m…all you need for your pleasure, understood?

He drops his voice low and attempts to shove the thoughts away. Blinky moves a hand to run it up the man’s burly chest over his shirt with a forced smirk.

The guy asks him a slurred question. Blinky shushes him quietly and harshly.

Let’s…

His eyes scan for a secluded area.

Take this somewhere more…private, hm?

The narrow alley they end up in stinks of rotten food and urine. It’s not unlike the one Bliklotep had woken up in days ago. Street lamps barely manage to illuminate the dumpster, trash cans, and old pieces of cardboard tucked away in the deeper parts of it. Perfect.

Blinky shoves the guy against the wall with little effort, regrettably half-straddling him to keep him firmly in place. It works in his favor - he seems to enjoy that. Bliklotep grits his teeth. He can barely see him in the low moonlight, but the sharp tang of some sort of vice that Bliklotep has no want to pinpoint is much more than enough to guide him toward this scumbag.

Blinky hadn’t seen the actual act of sex, but he had seen enough cringeworthy teens and foreplay beforehand to have a vague idea of what to do. He doubted this guy would care much, anyhow, drunk off his ass as he was. Bliklotep slipped a hand under the other’s shirt and twisted his nipple with a force that was sharp and strong, barely bothering to soften the blow. He still grins with too many teeth.

Do you like that, big boy?

He nods dumbly. Bliklotep chuckles in response. The guy mumbles something, clearly pleasing himself from this, and then moans in such a way that any passersby would have certainly heard. Bliklotep cringes.

Good.

With nothing more to do, he tries to feel him up with nothing but his hands, mostly focused on his upper body and neck. They share clipped sentence fragments through ear-grating, drunken, moans. Blinky attempts getting a pain-stimulated response again via more nipple-twists and general skin-pinching with expected success. He may be too harsh with it, but that hardly matters with how much the drunkard’s getting off on it. It’s sadistic, familiar, and most importantly gives Bliklotep a sense of normalcy.

You like that? I bet.

He tries to add a lilt to his words to express enthusiasm that isn’t there. The guy’s face is red and blotchy under the faint light, disgustingly blemished with pores across his cheeks and half-closed eyelids. Disparagingly and easily pleased mortals, they simply annoyed Bliklotep. And they made up a majority of humanity anyway. Or at least what Blinky had seen of Hatchetfield in his centuries of observation.

As he keeps him firmly pushed into the wall, he fails to notice that the other party is getting handsier and needier. Blinky freezes when something burning and hard grinds against his lower body area. It touches a certain part; tingles trickle down Blinky’s leg unprompted. Dread pools in his already ill-feeling stomach as the grinding doesn’t stop, even as he attempts to pull away. When he tries again, a beefy hand moves down to grope his ass. He finds, with panic for the first time that night, that he can’t move away. He’s physically overpowered, and this man’s intentions are sickening and clear. Blinky forces his breathing to slow, looking around for escape routes as he gently tugs himself away. The heat in the area builds. A flash of fear and worry mix with the annoyance from earlier. Blinky decides, impulsively, to keep playing along. At least until he gets his chance.

Bliklotep slides a hand over the one touching him and manages to pull it away and secure it back against the wall, his own hand holding the wrist. It isn’t difficult - he just has to put on a willing, very willing, facade. He does the same to the other hand, keeping both at enough of a distance to where they aren’t physically touching in any other areas, and goes in to lick his neck, though he grazes it more than anything. It’s sweaty and sour. Blinky shudders.

Wasting no time for a countdown, Bliklotep sinks his teeth into the side of the neck and bites down hard.

The body underneath him spasms with surprise. Unfortunately, he didn’t manage to do more than break some skin, meaning he would have to-

A knife shines in his peripheral. Bliklotep yanks his mouth away to rotate off the man into the wall, just barely missing the uncoordinated swing. It’s a small knife, but he doesn’t doubt that it would hurt like a bitch. He ends up in the alleyway corner and quickly slides out of it before he can get trapped. Apparently, the man isn’t drunk enough to not try and attack back. He charges, furious, neck bleeding and steadily staining his shirt, toward him with his knife. Blinky runs to the other end of the alley, eyes trained on the weapon. He feels behind himself for a similar weapon and finds one - a trash can lid. He lifts it to use it as a shield for a while until he can get another hit in. Blinky’s fast, managing to zigzag around the attacks by trailing the movements without leaving the alley. Leaving was for cowards, and Bliklotep would hardly show that to a measly human. He had a feeling he had the upper hand here either way.

Metal clangs on metal as Blinky blocks, dodges, and swerves another hit. Getting tired of this, he pulls the lid away from his body and instead flings it with as much force as he can into the arm holding the knife. It echoes. The knife falls through loose fingers, and then Bliklotep strikes. Backing up some to get a running start, he flings and clings to the man and makes sure to wrap their legs together and hold him tightly so he can’t get shaken off.

Messed with the wrong fucking god, bitch.

Hot copper floods his mouth this time. Bliklotep almost swallows before thinking better of it. He lets himself spit it out onto the ground, though some of it spills back onto the wound. He bites down once more for good measure. His tongue tastes metallic, as blood often does. With that, he gets off him. The man no longer speaks or makes noise - he’s unable to, and Blinky loves that thought. He sways on his feet and inevitably topples, almost limp, and takes Blinky down with him. Bliklotep winces a little at the rough fall, but it doesn’t last long as he hears the loud crunch of bone on pavement as the man’s head bounces.

Dull, lifeless, eyes shine in the streetlight. Bliklotep grins and gets back up. He rolls the body to a more secluded corner of the alley and wipes his blood-stained mouth and hands with the inside of his sweater, thoroughly satisfied. He finds the knife, abandoned again, and hinges it closed before pocketing it.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Sacrifical Bride.

Commissioned by the very lovely @yanmaresu.

Pairing: Yandere!Hades x Reader (Record of Ragnarök).

Word Count: 3.0k.

TW: Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Forced Marriage, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Emotional Manipulation, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, and Mentions of Kidnapping/Prolonged Captivity. Not Canon Complacent. I Have Never Met Canon But I Hear She's Very Nice.

The wedding was a solemn affair.

Not dull, because nothing that had your heart beating so violently could ever be considered ‘dull’, and not dreary, because despite the many, many things you could say about your kidnapper-turned-husband, he wasn’t one for bland affairs. No, your dress was of the finest and most vibrant silks, your veil lined with pearls and rubies and the gown’s train long enough to swell and ebb behind you as you walked down the seemingly never-ending aisle, unaccompanied by any escort. Wreaths of shining ivory lilies and blooming chrysanthemums encircled marble pillars, low-burning lanterns casting the chapel in long, wavering shadows. The pews were empty. The only guests were his ghastly servants, and they’d never once said a word to you.

There was no officiant. Hades waited for you at the brimstone altar alone, a gentle simper playing over his lips as he watched you drag your feet and fight the urge to bolt, to run, to do the very thing that’d left you trapped in his arm in the first place. It was tempting, albeit pointless. You’d always been swift footed, but there was nowhere to escape to in Helheim. At best, you’d spend a few days hiding and struggling to survive in the empty plains that surrounded his looming fortress of a home. At worst, you’d find yourself without direction and beyond the reach of his control, hopelessly lost and stumbling through fields of fading dead and gnarled beasts and things that would make the man in front of you look hospitable, in comparison. You tried to remind yourself of that as your body begged you to flee.

As you reached the altar, his smile grew into something that could’ve been convincingly genuine, had it been able to reach the pits of lifeless ice that were his eyes. Rather, the gesture only seemed to add to the coil of dread growing tighter in the pit of your stomach as you stepped beside him, clutching your bouquet to your chest in a white-knuckled grip. He’d let you pick that out yourself, at least, and you’d taken a truly irrational amount of joy in picking wildflowers and trimming roses and breaking every rule of decorum your mother had ever taught you. Now, though, the shadows of his hall seemed to dull your vision-searing colors, and it was difficult to take joy in such a simple pleasure knowing the man in front of you sought to ensure you’d never braid daisies or sleep beneath open skies again, when he was staring you down like yet another precious gem he planned to add to his ever-growing collection. It was a cruel comparison, but not quite as hyperbolic as you would’ve liked.

There was a shallow sigh, a hand brought to the edge of your veil. He toyed with the fabric for a long moment before taking the hem in both hands and pulling it away from your face. If he recognized the terror stitched into your expression, he only deemed it worth a slight shake of his head. “Oh, beloved.” His hand fell to your cheek. “You’re as radiant as the day we met.”

The day he plucked you from your mortal life and dragged you into the depths of the earth, the day he’d forced the awful seeds of that terrible fruit down your throat and promised you would never see another living soul again. You swallowed back your nerves. “Please, don’t draw this out.”

You were lucky you’d fallen into the hands of such a mild-tempered captor. He let out an airy chuckle, turning back to the altar. It was decorated sparsely; an overflowing cornucopia posed in one corner, a standing thurible slowly releasing nauseatingly sweet incense into the stagnant air sitting in the other. Between them was only a bottle of dark wine and two twin chalices, crafted of only the finest bronze and polished until they shined in the low lighting. He filled both to the brim before looking towards you, a glint in his remaining eye as he took a chalice in either hand.

You’d been wrong when you assumed they were identical. Where one had a line of aimless, curling thorns following the rim and plunging down the length of the handle, the other was embellished with roses, abstract and nearly shapeless, forming neat columns across the body of the cup. He extended the latter to you, its contents threatening to spill as you took it in your trembling hands. You’d managed to talk him out of the more elaborate ceremonies he’d suggested, but it was difficult to remember that this was a preferable alternative now that could feel the chill of his wine seeping into your palms.

You brought it to your lips, held it there for a moment, then pulled back at the hint of a more familiar scent than that of his dizzying incense. “Pomegranates?”

“I thought it would be a nice touch.” For him, maybe. He’d always struggled to see things from your perspective. “Forgive my sentimentality.”

You wouldn’t, but you were smart enough to keep that to yourself. When he raised his chalice, you did the same, mirroring him when your own will failed you. “To us, darling.”

You nodded. “To us.”

He took a long sip from his chalice, seeming to savor the rich wine, while you drained yours in a single breath. Try as you might to enjoy it, you could only seem to taste ash.

~

A few vows were exchanged, a kiss pressed into the back of your hand when you flinched away from his attempt to communicate his affection more directly. Finally, he took your arm and guided you back to your shared chambers, lingering in the doorway while you collapsed onto his bed – your marital bed, now, you supposed. You buried your face in the silken sheets, letting out a soft groan. There would be a celebration later on, a feast with all of his many gloating brothers and prying sisters in attendance, but the worst of it was over. You were bound to him, for better or for worse. All you could do was weather the consequences.

You’d hoped he would be kind enough to leave you alone while you consoled yourself, while you took all that you knew and all that you didn’t and recontextualized it with yourself as the mortal bride to the God of Death, but a hand on your shoulder dispelled that fleeting fantasy. With no small amount of reluctance, you pushed yourself upward and turned your attention back to Hades. This time, without the pretense of custom, he didn’t settle for your hand. His mouth found its way to the dip of your shoulder, then the crook of your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin as he pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses into his chosen targets.

When he started to move towards the curve of your throat, you moved on instinct – your hands finding their way to his hair as you dragged him away from you before he could do anything you wouldn’t be able to forget as soon as he left the room. “Please,” you said, not for the first time that day. “I… I’d rather be alone, right now. If it’s all the same to you.”

His smile didn’t waver. “You know that, if it were up to me, I would bend to your every whim,” he spaced the words out generously, as if worried your feeble human mind might not be able to understand. “But we aren’t done.”

Your expression fell. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me. I wore the dress, and—and I took your vows, and—”

“My love,” he cut you off swiftly, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek. “Our union will have to be consummated, eventually.”

You felt your throat begin to swell shut.

“I know that, but—” You laid your hand over his, trying to call upon whatever pale imitation of sympathy might’ve existed in his heart. “—does it have to be consummated now?”

You watched as his gaze softened, as his head lulled to the side in that endeared-yet-condescending manner he seemed so fond of. Slowly, with a painstaking gentleness, he brought you closer to him, ghosting over the top of your head and lingering there, even as he started to speak. “I think,” he started, his voice muffled by proximity. “that it would be in your best interest not to keep me waiting any longer.”

It wasn’t a threat, but it was posed like one, dredged up from somewhere deep in his chest and accompanied by his hand on your waist, nimble fingers slipping underneath the sash binding your gown together. When you jerked back, reflexively trying to escape his advances, he was quick to chase you, to let his softened smile spread into an amused grin as an arm wrapped around your midriff and dragged you, willingly or otherwise, into his lap. “I don’t want to hurt you.” And yet, your safety didn’t seem to cross his mind as his blunt nails bit into your waist, as he dragged you close enough to feel his chest press into yours, to become uncomfortably aware of the stiff outline against the loose fabric of his pants. “If I rely on my own self-restraint for another day—” Another kiss, this one to the tender patch of skin above your jugular vein. “I’m afraid I might end up doing something we both regret, when the time comes.”

“Less than a day,” you pleaded as he buried his face in your neck. There was a blur of movement, the ghost of his touch along the curve of your spine, and your bodice fell away in tatters, the ruined fabric collapsing to your waist. When you moved to cover yourself, Hades clicked his tongue and you froze, letting your arms fall back to your sides. Begging him to change his mind was one thing. Going against him so transparently would only make things more difficult. “Half a day. An hour. I just— Hades, I can’t do this right now—”

“My love.” Swift, blunt, merciless. You’d been a fool to ever think he was one of the kinder gods. “I think I’ve waited long enough to claim what belongs to me.”

Any protest you might’ve had died in your throat.

You’d been a fool to ever think he was anything less than the cruelest of his kin.

You wanted to scream. If you couldn’t run, then you would yell, raise your voice and tell him that he already had you, that he’d gotten everything he could’ve possibly wanted, but anything you might’ve said was torn away and ripped to shreds as his head dipped low, his teeth latching onto the vulnerable skin of you collar bone and sinking in. He didn’t draw blood, but he didn’t have to. A bolt of pure, stinging agony shot from your chest to your core, only dulling as he pulled away with a low groan. “Have I ever told you how much I adore the sound of my name on your tongue?” You felt his hand on your hip, then your thigh, the remains of your dress cut through and disposed of with little fanfare. He gave your bridal lingerie (pure white and so obnoxiously lacy, you’d had to wonder if this was all some sadistic joke as you slipped it on) more attention, his thumb running along the delicate trim before his fingers slipped underneath it, tracing the length of your slit before doing away with the barrier altogether.

Dread and panic dulled your reactions, but it would’ve been a lie to say the feeling of his mouth on your skin had left you completely unaffected. He chuckled as he gathered your slick on his fingertips, two of which were soon pressed into your clit with a brutal sort of precision. “And you tried to play coy.” He teased the sensitive bundle of nerves mercilessly, the patterns he traced into your clit too slow and too fleeting all at once. You wished he wouldn’t touch you at all, but if he was going to, it was the least he could’ve done not to draw it out. “That must’ve been why you seemed so rushed during our ceremony. If you’d asked me to make love to you on that altar, I happily would have.”

Hot, humiliated tears welled up in the corners of your eyes. You attempted to deny it, but a cracked moan slipped past your lips instead as two of his fingers were forced into your cunt and spread, splitting you apart. Your hands shot to his shoulders, trying to stabilize yourself, but he only saw your desperation as an invitation – bowing his head and pumping his fingers into you at the kind of languid pace that left you fighting not to rock against him, not to make up for the urgency immortal creatures so often lacked. “You’re a vice,” he muttered, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear, his tone low and lecherous. You wondered, briefly, if words that fell from the lips of a god could be considered sinful. “To think my own wife would’ve had me neglect her so severely for so long.”

You shook your head. You were married to him, sure, bound to him. But you couldn’t afford to think of yourself as his wife. You couldn’t afford to think of yourself as something so limited, something so purely an extension of him. “I’m not—”

“Don’t try to spare my feelings. I can see that I underestimated just how much attention my little mortal would need.” His wrist quirked, another digit pushing past your entrance and stuffing your pussy full as his fingers curled and ground inside of you. Against your will, you felt a tight heat begin to twist and writhe in the pit of your stomach, pangs of burning pleasure coursing from your cunt to your core. Now, you cried unabashedly, embarrassment and shame burning in your cheeks and fueling the unsteady stream of tears that Hades was so agonizingly quick to coo over, to kiss away as your hips bucked unsteadily against his hand. “What a sensitive wife I have.” That word – that awful word – was enough to earn a ragged sob, but if he recognized the connection, he didn’t deem it worth his concern. “I promise, you’ll never feel so unloved in my care again.”

You would’ve given anything to be able to pull away from him, to be able to shove at his chest and swear to all the gods you’d once worshiped that there was no part of you that could ever feel loved with him, but in the end, he was the one to let you go, to throw you onto the center of his great bed and leave you whining involuntarily at the sudden loss of stimulation. He’d never been one to deprive you, though; in a moment, he was in between your open legs, one hand wrapped loosely around your thigh while the other pulled feverishly at his own clothes. His coat fell away first, then his shirt. You heard fabric shift and metal clink and, in a daze, saw him wrap his fist around something he could not have possibly planned to fit inside of you. Half out of terror and half out of instinct, your gaze flickered from his cock to his face – to the wide, fanged grin he’d been wearing for as long as you could remember.

He moved to kiss you, and you drove your heel into his stomach.

The blow would’ve been weak by human standards, but it caught him off-guard. Out of reflex, he reeled back, and you took the opportunity to scramble off his bed and towards the door, to any part of this forsaken place where Hades wasn’t. You made it a step, maybe two before something caught your shoulder, before your body buckled under a weight greater than your own. You were dragged onto your knees before you could so much as think to slip away from him, your cheek forced against the cool marble of the floor before you could hope to make your descent more dignified. You felt his broad chest press into your back, his snarling lips against the curve of your throat. You wondered if the insult would be great enough to warrant taking your life, but the thought was dismissed quickly.

Hades had never been the kind of god capable of showing such mercy.

“I would’ve made love to you like a queen,” he spat, his tone all manic venom and overdue obsession. “But, if you’d rather be fucked on the ground like a whore, I’m more than happy to oblige.”

You weren’t allowed the luxury of bracing yourself, this time. In one brutal movement, he thrust into you, splitting you open on his cock with the kind of harsh, unforgiving force better suited to a wild animal.  There was no time to adjust, no time to sob, only Hades groaning against your neck as he bucked against you, never daring to pull out completely. Whatever agony his fingers had sparked was now ten-fold. Your legs shook, your body threatening to collapse entirely, but Hades kept your ass raised and your thighs spread, his focus entirely on bucking into you as deeply and as roughly as he could.

It almost surprised you when one of his hands shot to your head, his fingers tangling themselves in your hair as he forced his mouth against yours. You tried not to cooperate, but two fingers pressed into your clit and your mouth fell open in a guttural cry, providing an opening he seemed content to take advantage of. It was a deep, lingering, messything – all tongue and teeth – but his cock ground against something soft and vulnerable and you failed to suppress the wave of pure heat that flooded through your battered body as you clenched around him, as you came undone around the cock of your kidnapper, your captor, your husband. Hades wasn’t far behind, his composure shattering no more than a second after the walls of your cunt clenched down around him. You could only choke on your misery-tinged pleasure as his hips pressed into your ass and he came inside of you – his awful warmth soon tainting every fiber of your being.

You tried to tell yourself that, at the very least, it was over - that he’d had his fill of you and now, you’d be free to console yourself elsewhere, but your hopes were once again dashed when Hades failed to release you, failed to pull out of you, failed to do anything but press himself into your back and trail his lips idly down to the nape of your neck. “Once is a pitiful amount for a king. Don’t you agree?”

You felt his hips move back, then rock against you just as quickly.

“You can forgive me when we’re done, love.”

[irmawrites]

Sleeping with the enemy | One-Shot

Summary: your father, Gwayne Hightower, had always told you to beware of Davos Blackwood, son of one of your grandfather's most ardent haters. But when you meet him at a party years after graduating college, you can't help but think he's not so bad after all.

Rating: Explicit [18+], MDNI.

Pairing: modern!Davos Blackwood x Hightower!Reader (appearance isn’t specified, everyone is 18+ in this)

TW: smut with a tiny bit of plot, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), p in v sex, praising kink, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, dom/sub undertones, afab reader, not proofread.

Words count: 4393

Author’s note: Hi, everyone! This is my first time posting here, and I have to admit I'm a bit intimidated ahaha like a lot of people, I fell in love with Davos Blackwood's in episode three and ABSOLUTELY had to write this idea that's been on my mind for a while now.

I should probably mention that English is not my mother tongue, so please excuse my grammar mistakes!

Davos Blackwood had a bad reputation in your neighborhood, that much was true.

The rumors about him had started when you were still in college, something about red liquid smeared on the mirror in the boys' bathroom. A silly prank involving fake blood and strange theatrics to scare off a younger classmate that had perhaps gone too far. It was your own cousin Aemond who had found the fake crime scene just after the culprit had left, still licking his red-stained fingers. It caused quite a stir at the time, and he hadn't been seen on campus for at least two weeks. It may have been fake blood or just a tasteless joke, it was still inevitable that action would have to be taken.

It was Aeron Bracken in particular who had helped make these bizarre stories popular. He told anyone who would listen that Davos Blackwood was a deranged, violent madman. It was no secret that the two young men didn't get along. But no one expected things to get as bad as they did. There had been rumors in the hallways and whispers in the cafeteria, but that wasn't all. His car had been vandalized and marked with insults on several occasions. Even Gwayne Hightower, your father, had warned you.

A real witch hunt.

As far as you knew, however, the main target had remained unaffected by the situation, even toying with those who provoked him. In a way, he almost seemed to enjoy the wild, mysterious aura that all this fuss gave him.

You, for one, had never really believed it. After all, he didn't look like a bad guy, with his big, green eyes and permanently disheveled black hair. He seemed a little strange to you, a little off, but not enough to be considered a clear danger. But your opinion didn't matter much.

Nothing had ever destined the two of you to spend time together. His parents' company only did business with Rhaenyra's, refusing any ties and especially any agreements with the Hightowers. His father seemed to harbor a fierce hatred and boundless distrust of your family, apparently fearing that Otto's overweening ambition would lead him to overturn the order of succession established by Viserys himself and install his own grandson as sole ruler of the company.

And in your world, your parents had a bit more say in who you dated than they did for other people. You couldn't just go out with a guy because he seemed interesting, especially if he was the son of one of your grandfather's most ardent haters.

So you'd never spoken to each other in college, let alone at the lavish charity galas your family hosted.

Never, until that day.

"You like Iron Maiden?" a hoarse, unfamiliar voice said from behind you as you wrung the water out of your hair, "or is that your boyfriend's shirt?". The sun was high in the sky and you could feel the heat of its rays burning your exposed neck. The clear waters of the Targaryen family pool sparkled, and the garden echoed with the bursts of voices of those Aegon had invited to what should have been a casual gathering of the younger generation with ties to the Targaryen business.

You didn't think he'd invite Davos Blackwood, though.

"It's mine," you replied, giving the young man a mischievous smile, your fingers playing absentmindedly with the string that held the bottom of your swimsuit to your hip, "and yeah, it's one of my favorite bands actually." He seemed to take a moment to assess the situation, his eyes roaming up and down your body, an unreadable smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Never pegged you as a little rebel," he crossed his arms over his chest before continuing, "more of a model daughter." You knew he was toying with you, trying to tease you, but you were more than happy to play along.

Besides, you understood where the thought came from, you who were usually more used to short skirts and high heels than band shirts.

Mentally, you thanked Aegon for thinking of him. "Be careful, Blackwood," your voice sounded like a playful threat, "you might be surprised."

You were about to leave to return to the deck chairs, but it seemed that Davos wasn't quite finished with the conversation. "Wait," he ordered, taking your wrist between his broad fingers. Mechanically, you glanced around to make sure no one was watching. After all, the last thing you wanted was for someone to spy on your conversation with someone who still belonged to your grandfather's enemy side. "What is it?" it was your turn to cross your arms over your chest, your eyebrows furrowing as you waited for some kind of justification from him. It was clear he had something on his mind, but you just couldn't figure out what. "Do you want to come over to my place sometime?" he finally said, and you felt your breath catch somewhere between your throat and your lungs. "Why?" the question crossed your lips before you could even think about it.

You didn't know each other, had never spoken before, not to mention the fact that your families didn't approve of each other. You were tempted to agree, of course, because whether you liked it or not, you felt this kind of almost magnetic attraction pulling you together.

You'd have liked to think it was fate, but you knew it was just your love of danger and the forbidden.

His voice pulled you out of your thoughts again. "You seem like a pretty nice girl, and we obviously have the same taste in music," he replied, finally loosening his grip on your wrist, "we could watch a movie, get to know each other, something like that." The offer was tempting, the prospect of spending a little more time with him appealing, but even though you desperately wanted to say yes, you knew you couldn't. You had to be reasonable and listen to that little voice in your head that told you it all sounded like a terrible idea. But he seemed to sense your reluctance because he quickly added, "Don't worry, no one will know."

***

Davos’ room wasn't exactly what you'd call tidy. You noticed a half-full ashtray on the windowsill and a few empty cans on his desk. It was the opposite of your own bedroom, neatly decorated and perfectly organized. Your wardrobe drawers were a bit of an exception, but that didn't really matter.

Even so, you couldn't help but find it a little charming. The smell of his cologne in the air, the half-unraveled sheets, this was unmistakably him. It tasted risky and illicit, and it stirred something unfamiliar in the pit of your stomach. A reaction that no boy had ever managed to provoke in you.

"There's no denying it, vampires really are the best supernatural creatures," you muttered, sinking your teeth into the last slice of the half-cold pizza you'd ordered earlier. You were especially comfortable sitting cross-legged on his bed as the rain pounded against the windows and the end of the movie drew near on his computer screen. His parents were out of town for the week, on a business trip or something, providing you with an opportunity to finally meet away from prying eyes. He seemed quite comfortable too, with his leg pressed against yours and his hand wrapped around his soda cup, which he sipped absentmindedly. "I have to say, I never thought you'd be into movies like this," he told you after a few long seconds, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips, "given your looks, I thought you'd be more into romantic comedies or something." You held back an annoyed sigh.

"Like I said..." you finally replied, "you should beware of appearances."

They can be misleading sometimes, you kept to yourself.

It was true that you were usually a sweet, sensible girl, the ideal daughter who always smiled and never caused trouble. The pride and joy of your parents. But lately you had grown tired. Tired of following orders, of doing everything you were told without ever being able to listen to your heart. You were eager to get rid of this constant fear of disappointing your loved ones if you didn't live up to their expectations, and it seemed that life had given you the perfect opportunity to free yourself from all that. 

"Is there something I should know?" the young man’s hand came to rest on the top of your thigh, his thumb delicately stroking the soft skin there, "some dark secret of yours, princess?". His almost mocking tone and the annoying nickname were enough to bring back that scorching heat in the pit of your stomach. The way he looked at you, at your breasts, made you think that he was affected by this sudden closeness, too. His gaze burned, almost as much as his fingers, which were now creeping dangerously up the hem of your shorts. And when you felt them graze the lace of your underwear in the hollow where your leg and hip met, you thought that maybe, just maybe, you'd bitten off more than you could chew.

But even though you were entering unfamiliar territory, something foreign to you, you refused to lose control and let him take what he wanted without saying a word. This wasn't your style. You always had a witty comeback ready to go. And you were going to show him.

Slowly, you moved forward a few inches on the bed to sit astride his very inviting lap, never taking your eyes off his lips. Your hands found his shoulders, and you could feel the hardness of his desire beneath your thighs. Gods, the sensation was divine. This was your doing. You and no one else’s. The sudden surge of power and dominance made your head spin. "Be very careful what you do now," his fingers settled on your hips to bring your chests a little closer together, his grip tight and bruising. "Or what?" you replied in an almost insolent, even provocative tone.

"Or we could end up doing something you might regret."

This was all a very bad idea, that much was true. Davos Blackwood was a very bad idea. But you didn't want to dwell on what the future might hold, let alone the potential consequences of your actions. All you knew was that you wanted more. More of his hands on your skin, more of his lips on yours, and more of him.  

And it seemed that he, too, was eager to take it further.

His fingers made their way up from your waist to your chest, slipping under your tank top to brush his thumbs over the two little hardened buds. The ghost of a touch, really, but it was enough to make you moan. Your mouths were now just a few inches apart, your breaths mingling, but you didn't want to kiss him yet, choosing to prolong this delicious, exhilarating tension for a few minutes longer.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?" he asked, his voice hoarse with desire. "Do you feel it?". He backed up his words with action, rolling his hips and planting a kiss right at the corner of your jaw. "You know what this is?" he added, rolling one of your nipples between his index finger and thumb, "what happens to a man when a woman behaves the way you do?". Of course I know, you wanted to say but the words stuck in your throat and only a moan managed to break through the barrier of your lips. You weren't stupid, you were perfectly aware of what happened in this kind of situation. But you'd never seen it, let alone touched it, and the theory was very different from the actual reality.

"Shut up," you replied at last, before planting a kiss on his lips. You didn't mean it, though. To be honest, you wished he would talk to you like that all night long, sending a wave of heat straight to your core with words alone. His tongue found yours, silencing your thoughts, and you wrapped your arms around his neck to keep from losing your footing. "Such a foul mouth," he said, smiling against your lips as he gave you time to breathe, "we'll see if you're still so talkative once I'm done with you."

The young man's hands found the bottom of your tank top and pulled it over your head, and soon it was your shorts that suffered the same fate, leaving you in nothing but your black lace panties. You suddenly felt exposed, lying there under that hungry gaze that regarded you like a precious gift, a prized possession. You waited eagerly for his next move.

Where was the bold young woman who had taken the lead just a few minutes earlier, the one so determined not to lose control? It seemed like she'd already vanished, replaced by some shy creature beneath his crude words and inappropriate touch.

"What are you going to do to me?" you tilted your head to the side to give him better access to the skin of your neck, which he was kissing with increasing fervor. "Nothing you won't like," he replied as he stood up to get rid of his t-shirt, which joined the pile of clothes at the foot of the bed. Your eyes couldn't help but wander over his toned torso dotted with dark hairs, your hands itching to touch him.

Soon enough, his lips found your jaw, then your neck, then the top of your chest, and you immediately shivered. The weight of his body lying on yours was delightful, comforting. "Please..." you whimpered as your hands settled on his shoulders, urging him to give you what you were so desperate for. You felt his fingers slide slowly against the skin of your belly, then lower, much lower, to play with the lace of your underwear, and your back arched almost reflexively. You wanted more, you needed more, and you were getting tired of waiting.

"Be patient, princess," he said, nibbling on the soft skin of your breast, his mouth soon wrapping around your hardened nipple. A grunt escaped you, and you weren't quite sure if it was from your frustration or the dominant tone he had just used. His hand slipped under the fabric of your panties to tease the top of your slit before brushing over your already soaked folds. It was annoying, really, the effect he was having on you with such a light touch. But it was heavenly, and you had decided to ignore the voice of reason for the night.

His index finger found the little pearl nestled at the apex of your center, and the contact felt like a delicious electric shock. You threw your head back, eyes closing, lips parting in a silent cry as he drew little circles around your most sensitive area. "Have you ever had anyone here?" he asked after a few seconds. When you didn't answer, he added: "I asked you a question, and I want you to answer me." There it was again, his commanding, almost controlling tone.

"N... no," you stammered as you opened your eyes again to meet his, "nobody." You suddenly felt like prey under his hungry gaze that devoured your trembling body. "Perfect," you heard, just before his fingers found your entrance, which was already clenching around nothing, "and here?".

The idea of being the first to enter you seemed to obsess him.

You nodded, this time from left to right, signifying that no, you had saved your virginity for the right man, the one who would know how to make you tremble under his ministrations, the one who would know how to make you beg for more, always more.

"Perfect," he repeated again, as the first knuckle of his index finger sank agonizingly slowly into you, teasing your inner walls. It was barely there, nothing really, and yet you already felt incredibly full. "You're so tight," he growled against the skin of your throat, "so warm too, you're going to feel amazing around me." He added a second knuckle and soon his finger was completely buried inside you. It felt good, and it felt right, but it didn't feel like enough. You wiggled your hips and it seemed as if Davos had understood your silent request immediately. "I need you to take another," he straightened on his left elbow to look at you with lust-blown pupils, "do you think you can do that for me?". Once again, you nodded your head in agreement, but this time it didn't seem to be enough for him. "Use your words, princess." You fought the urge to roll your eyes. "I... I can take more," you murmured right against his lips as you looked down between your thighs.

"Good girl," he said, his voice low and rough as you felt his middle finger pressing into you. He curled them both, brushing that spongy spot against your inner wall, and you threw your head back.

You dug your nails into his pale skin to stay anchored in the present as his thumb found your clit. But you knew you wouldn't last long. You could already feel tingles of pleasure buzzing through your body, and in the pit of your belly, the fires of delight burned a little more fiercely. You wanted to warn him, to tell him you were close, but he was quicker than you: "Come for me."

He didn't need to tell you a second time.

Soon, the wave of your orgasm washed over you.

It made your whole body shake with spasms, your climax exploding like fireworks behind your eyelids. Your lips crashed against his neck to stifle your final moan as your back arched under the intense sensation. The young man was merciful enough to give you a few seconds to recover before withdrawing his fingers, leaving you empty and frustrated. "Look at the mess you made," you heard him groan, "clean it up." His index and middle fingers brushed across your lips, which parted eagerly to welcome them into your warm mouth.

You timidly wrapped your tongue around them under his predatory gaze. The mere thought that you could taste yourself on your taste buds set your body on fire once again. It was indecent, inappropriate, and you probably should have been ashamed to be used like this, but you couldn't care less.

Maybe it was his fault, or maybe you'd just found each other despite everything that kept you apart.

His fingers left your mouth to wrap around your neck. But as he lay back on the mattress and guided you towards his lips, you resisted. Once again, you straddled his hips, only this time completely naked. He looked at you for a few seconds, a little confused, until you reached under the elastic of his underwear to slide it down his legs. This seemed to make him realize the extent of your intentions. His hard member jumped free and caught your eye. Standing proud with a mass of dark curls adorning its base, the sight alone made you salivate. "Let me thank you," you said, as your fingers gently traced its length. "I want to make you feel good too." You slowly moved between his legs to kiss his inner thighs.

You reached out tentatively and wrapped your fingers around his manhood. It felt heavy in your hand, massive and your index finger couldn't quite touch your thumb because it was so wide. You brought your lips to his crotch and, watching Davos from beneath your long lashes, planted a quick kiss on the head where it was already weeping for you. Your tongue traced a vein on the underside without ever breaking eye contact. He threw his head back, his lips parted to let out a muffled curse.

The rush of power you felt when you saw him so vulnerable under your touch was sinfully delicious.

You tilted your head to the side to plant a series of kisses all along his hardened manhood, your big innocent eyes still locked with his. There was a pause, a few tense seconds, before finally, finally, you moved your head forward to take him fully into your mouth. His big hand found refuge at the back of your skull, and you let him guide you completely.

The grip on your hair tightened, almost to the point of pain. "Breathe, through your nose," the young man ordered, but his voice was more urgent than before, his breathing becoming ragged from the growing pleasure. "You can do better than that." The fingers buried in your locks soon forced you to swallow him whole, your nose pressed against his pelvis, the unruly hair tickling your face. You could feel yourself drooling around him, the action messy. "Such a filthy girl," he said as his thumb came to caress the corner of your mouth, right where his member disappeared between your lips, "sucking my cock like a real whore." You let out an audible moan around his length in response to the foulness of his words.

But instead of disgusting you, it only served to encourage you.

You hollowed out your cheeks, still following the rhythm of his hand, which had resumed its place at the back of your head. He was big, and he filled your mouth in a way you hadn't experienced before, but you wanted to prove to him that you could satisfy him, that you could make him proud. Tears formed at the corners of your eyes, which he hastily wiped away with the tip of his free thumb. "Shh... you're doing so well," he praised you in a reassuring tone. You knew he was close to reaching his climax. His breathing had become labored, his movements erratic, and it was evident that you were causing him to lose his balance. But it seemed he didn't want to end it that quickly.

"Wait, not yet," he straightened into a sitting position, placing his hand on your cheek to force you back a few inches, "I'd hate to waste it." The implication made your cheeks flush, but you couldn't help but look forward to what would come next.

His hands came to rest on your waist, encouraging you to sit on his hips again, this time making his still impossibly hard manhood brush against your soaked cunt. The contact alone was enough to elicit a moan from you. His own fingers wrapped around his member as he guided it towards your narrow entrance.

And after what felt like an eternity, he finally thrust into you.

He stretched you to perfection, the foreign sensation a mixture of delicious pain and aching pleasure. "Fuck princess, you're tight," your head found refuge in the hollow of his neck, but you could hear that annoying smirk in his voice, "I'm going to ruin you." And oh how you couldn't wait for him to make good on his threats. "Move," you pleaded against the skin of his throat as you hesitantly moved your hips up and down to get that delicious friction you craved. He seemed hell-bent on teaching you self-restraint, even though you desperately wanted to see him lose control. He grabbed your waist in a firm grip, keeping you pressed against his hips and making you whine. "Did I say you could move?" he asked, kissing the side of your jaw. Once again that night, you'd annoyed him by not answering, and he repeated, "did I say you could move?".  

It seems he was also trying to make you learn obedience, in addition to patience.

You didn't even have a chance to react before the young man used his grip on your waist to pull back almost completely, revealing his member glistening with your sticky juices before thrusting himself into you once more. His head was rubbing against that most delicious spot inside you, making your legs tremble with pure bliss. "Please, I..." You didn't even know what you were asking for as he moved back and forth continuously. You thought he'd ask you to speak again, but he was too caught up in pleasure and close to his release to be bothered by your pleas.

But even if he'd lost his rhythm, it was clear he was still determined to satisfy you. His thumb was back on your little pearl, tracing small circles around it, while inside you his length relentlessly pounded against your inner wall. You could feel yourself clenching around him, and the heat between your thighs was back with a fiercer intensity than ever. “I’m going to fill you up,” his teeth nibbled at the soft skin of your neck, marking it possessively, “I’m going to fill you up and you’re going to take everything I’m going to give you, feel me for days.” The moans that came out of your mouth were now completely incoherent, a confused jumble of yes and please.

Your climax hit hard and fast—stronger than the one Davos had offered you earlier that night. You dug your nails into his shoulders, leaving red half-moons as evidence of your forbidden actions. Your back arched off the mattress, pressing his body against yours as reality slipped through your fingers and a myriad of stars danced behind your eyelids. He followed you just a few seconds later, pouring into you with white ropes.

He stayed inside you for a few more moments, his length softening. But neither of you felt like moving, not when you were so comfortable, lying against each other, your limbs tangled. He placed a tender kiss on your forehead that made your heart clench. You still refused to think about the future and the problems that might arise from such a strong connection between the two of you. All that mattered for the moment was his skin against yours and your fingers in his hair.

"We should do that again," you murmured as you kissed his cheeks, his chin, his nose, "someday."

He smiled.

"We will," he said with confidence, "I'll make sure of that, princess."

The nickname made your stomach flutter with excitement.

[winged-self-indulgence]

Why Do People Like Yanderes?

Hi everyone, my name is Diya, and this was going to be a YT video-essay-type-thing but I'm too poor to afford a mic and too busy with college to learn how to edit videos, so here's my vague exploration of the psychology behind why people like yanderes so much through the lens of my favourite Visual Novels.

TW for uh. yandere content. Mentions of sex, gore, and non-con, particularly in the last topic. This is more like the first draft of an academic paper so while it's not explicit, I do go into some detail.

Introduction

If you’re a fan of anime or visual novels, then you’re probably already aware of what a yandere is, or at the very least you’ve seen that one picture of Yuno Gasai. Still, for the sake of thoroughness, let’s take it from the tippy top. The term ‘yandere’ is a Japanese portmanteau of ‘yanderu’ – the progressive form of ‘yami’ – meaning ‘sick’, and ‘deredere’ which roughly translates to ‘loving’. Together, the word refers to someone who is – in short – extremely lovesick. Obsessive to the extreme, and with little morality to spare, the standard yandere is characterized by a dangerous fixation on a chosen target, often appearing shy and caring at first only to flip the script and become violently aggressive towards perceived threats (Kroon, 2010).

It should be noted that yanderes are not a strictly romantic or sexual trope. The Ancient Greeks classified at least six forms of love, from familial (storge) to guests (xenia). Modern psychologists may distinguish love as either Companionate or Passionate (Kim & Hatfield, 2004) or consisting of three dimensions of Intimacy, Passion, and Commitment (Sternberg & Sternberg, 2018). Realistically, possessiveness shows up in a variety of relationships. However, people are generally primed to view certain dynamics as inherently amorous. Societal norms tend to encourage the idea that romantic bonds ought to rank above all others, and therefore if Person A is bizarrely fixated on Person B, then clearly there must be an element of sexual interest involved regardless of the actual relationship between the individuals in question.

Regardless, yanderes remain quite popular in fiction. Many dismiss it as a fetish, which it can be, but that isn’t the case for everyone. While there is nothing wrong with indulging in kinky fiction, not all of us get horny at the thought of being chained up in someone’s basement, no matter how hot our captor may be. So why is it so pervasive? Why is this trope so appealing that most writers cannot help but include at least a single line of dialogue implying that – if circumstances had been ever so slightly different – my wholesome shoujo romcom might have turned into a psychological horror?

Hybristophilia

‘Hybristophilia’, also known as Bonnie and Clyde Syndrome after the titular criminal couple, is a word is derived from the Greek word ‘hybridzein’ meaning ‘to commit an outrage against someone’ and ‘philo’ which means ‘a strong preference for’. Sexologist John Money reportedly defined it as a paraphilia in which an individual is sexually aroused by a partner who has a predatory history of hurting other people (Money, 1986, as cited in Matuszak, 2017). In his book, Serial Killer Groupies, true crime and crime fiction author RJ Parker distinguished two forms of hybristophilia: passive and aggressive. The former is when an individual contacts a criminal with the intention of striking up a relationship with them, allowing themselves to be seduced and manipulated but having no interest in committing a crime themselves. The latter are far more dangerous, as the individual not only derives sexual pleasure from their partner’s atrocities but are active participants in carrying out or covering up the crime. To quote Griffiths (2013, as cited in Pettigrew, 2019):

“[They] help out their lovers with their criminal agenda by luring victims, hiding bodies, covering crimes, or even committing crimes. They are attracted to their lovers because of their violent actions and want to receive love yet are unable to understand that their lovers are psychopaths who are manipulating them.”

In some ways, hybristophilia is the nearest thing we have to a realistic understanding of why people love yanderes. I mean, much of the fantasy surrounding such characters and their media tend to be filled with posts begging to be spat on or calling the rightfully terrified main character ungrateful for being a teeny bit upset about finding surveillance cameras in their ceiling. However, enjoying fictitious immoral activity does not predict real perpetration, so what does? There exists little consensus amongst psychologists as to what sparks this particular predilection, and that was strange to me. You would think there would be more studies into this topic, in spite of or perhaps because of its controversial nature. Heck, that one dude wouldn’t shut up about white women’s obsession with Bundy and Dahmer, and I assumed he had gotten that information from somewhere, but it turns out that was just him using modifiers to justify sexism.

However, I believe that we can hedge a few guesses, and over the course of my research, I’ve organized the main rationalizations under four umbrellas which I will explore through the lens of my favourite yandere-themed Visual Novels. Please keep in mind that most of these games are rated as mature due to sexual scenes and/or gore. Additionally, in the spirit of transparency, this ramble will be focused exclusively on male or masculine yanderes. So, without further ado:

Call Me Bob the Builder Because I Can Fix Them

If you’re familiar with DC Comic’s Batman, or just happen to have attended any costume event held over the span of the last 20+ years, you may be familiar with the character of Dr. Harleen Quinzel, better known as Harley Quinn. Initially created as the Joker’s one-off sidekick in Batman The Animated Series, she was so well-received by audiences that she became a recurring character in the cartoon and was eventually given a proper origin story in the form of a one-shot titled Mad Love.

Harley’s origin story has seen some alterations over the past decades, but the core aspects remain largely untouched. In the beginning, Harleen Quinzel was a promising young woman who wanted was a degree from the university’s prestigious psychology department, which she gained through…less than scrupulous means.

(Listen, I’m not sure if the authors were leaning on the Dumb Blonde stereotype, or if they simply thought that casting her as a genuinely bad student would make her later actions more believable. Either way, the idea of Harley as someone with a legitimate PhD came later)

After landing an internship at Arkham Asylum – a half-hospital and half-prison straight out of the 1870s that might as well be built out of one-ply tissue-paper soaked with gasoline and left next to a crate of fireworks – Harleen set her sights on the then incarcerated Joker. At the start, her fixation on the criminal wasn’t remotely sympathetic. She didn’t want to help him, she wanted to use him. Harleen Quinzel wanted piggyback off his infamy and write a tell-all tale detailing what sort of messed up childhood resulted in Gotham’s Clown Prince of Crime. Yet the more she interacted with him, the more the Joker took advantage of her empathy. By the end of their sessions, Harley no longer saw him as a violent serial killer with a clown schtick, but as a “lost, injured child looking to make the world laugh at his antics.”

But Diya, you may be asking, what does this have to do with the video? The Joker never loved Harley, and it could even be argued – as Shehadeh did in a 2017 essay – that her obsession with the pasty-faced clown is more akin to Histrionic Personality Disorder. While that may be the case, I believe that Harley’s story provides one of the reasons yanderes are so popular: their backstory.

Whether they were abandoned by their family, bullied by their peers, experimented on by evil scientists, starved on the streets, died under mysterious circumstances and then trapped in a haunted VCR tape for decades, or are simply so impossibly inhuman that they frankly do not understand why it isn’t socially acceptable to imprison their crush in a pocket dimension made of meat and non-Euclidean geometry, yanderes often have fairly sympathetic or at least understandable explanations for why they are Like That. Your mileage may vary significantly depending on how much you sympathize with these motives, but the point is that yanderes always make sense to some degree. Their morality and priorities may be twisted or even completely incomprehensible, but the audience almost always knows the reason, and that can be comforting. In the real world, other people aren’t always straightforward, and we never really know what they’re thinking, but narrative coherence demands a semblance of internal consistency lest the audience end up frustrated and confused. So yanderes are not only easy to sympathize with, but also fairly predictable. In-universe they may be unhinged freaks with a blood fetish, but to you watching from behind the safety of the screen they’re just acting out the script written for them based on a prototype. And if you understand the why behind their loose gears, then you might just be able to put them back together again.

The concept of rescue romances or “I Can Fix Them” has been around in our stories for thousands of years. The Epic of Gilgamesh detailed how Shamhat essentially ‘civilized’ wild man Enkidu through ritual lovemaking, and a concerning number of religions push the idea that women are dutybound to save men from the follies of sin. Yet men are not exempt either, with one notable example being the German fairytale, King Thrushbeard. Call it what you will regardless: Knights in Shining Armour, the Florence Nightingale Effect, or a plain old case of Because You Were Nice to Me, studies have shown that human beings generally like helping [DA2] others, even when the reason doesn’t necessarily stem from pure altruism. I will delve deeper into this later, but care and compassion are deeply ingrained in human nature, and arising from those roots is the appeal of this mentality: You can save them. You can change them. You can make them better. You are special, and the way you treat this person carries a weight that has not and will never be matched by anyone else for the rest of their mortal or immortal existence.

The illusion is a delicious one, especially if the person you’ve helped turns out to be a billionaire CEO with cash to burn, a super powerful ghost king willing to raze continents to dust for you, a demon having fun on a Friday night, or just your average hot creep with a knife. Moreover, different people have different ideas of what ‘fixing’ even means. Maybe you want to single-handedly rehabilitate your yandere into a functional member of society. Maybe you’re cool with the incessant stalking but would like them to stop slaughtering your friends, family, and local service workers. Maybe you want to make them much, much worse.

Not only do yanderes provide immediate proof that your actions have a tangible impact on the lives of others, but the fantasy also includes the desire of being seen as special. Of being admired and adored by someone whose life you inexplicably made better by virtue of simply being yourself, or an idealized version of yourself. In this fictional world, in this imaginary setting, the person you are is so uniquely, impossibly irreplaceable to someone. And if that’s the case then they can’t risk losing you, can they?

The Allure of Obsession, or ‘Til Death Do Us Part (Literally)

It shouldn’t be necessary, but here is my obligatory disclaimer anyway. Ahem: obsession is not a good thing in real life. Fixating on another human to the detriment of your own wellbeing and that of those around you is dangerous, as is encouraging someone else to obsess over you. You might think you are being worshiped, but real life is not a visual novel. The outside world doesn’t come with an age rating, the author’s guiding pen, and a convenient fade to credits sequence once you’ve reached an ending. The consequences will still be there in the morning, so don’t do it. Just don’t.

PSA out of the way, it’s natural to want to be wanted. Maslow’s Hierarchy places it just above physical safety, but I’d argue that it could easily be compared to baser drives. According to many psychological and anthropological studies, much of humanity’s continued survival and environmental dominance is largely attributed to our ability to form groups, cooperate with one another, and maintain complex interpersonal networks. Social support, intimacy, and a sense of belonging are linked to emotional and physical benefits, such as more optimistic health perceptions, higher subjective well-being, increased creativity and innovation, and greater self-efficacy (DeWall & Bushman, 2011; Harandi et al., 2017; Wang & Sha, 2018). Therefore, it’s perfectly understandable that rejection of any sort would be construed as a threat.

But if someone is obsessed with you, then you have no reason to worry about that, right? No more nights spent agonizing over how they feel about you, asking yourself whether your last text made you sound too desperate, or if you’re boring them because you spent the past hour info-dumping about Stardew Valley farm layouts. With a yandere, there will never be any doubt that they care about you. Sure, they might go about it in weird, manipulative, and insidious ways that violate your physical and mental autonomy, but you can’t deny their loyalty. They do love you in their own bizarre way. You are the sun around which they orbit. When you’re in the room, no one else exists. Every single messy flaw is just another bullet point on the mile-long list of why they adore you.

In essence, yanderes are not only attentive, but their love can be virtually unconditional. A yandere might know everything about you, and still revere you. It’s unhealthy as hell and you might genuinely question their taste, but it can be tempting to pretend that all of you, right down to the ugliest parts of yourself – the traits and choices that you would never share with another living soul even at gunpoint – are worthy of understanding, if not open praise and affection.   

Attractiveness, or Okay but Have You Considered That They’re Hot Though?

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I mean what am I supposed to say here? They’re hot, what do you want from me?

No, but in all seriousness, fictional media paints an idealized version of the world, and most yanderes are hot because they have the freedom of existing purely behind that screen; artfully arranged and edited to forever appear compelling to anyone who happens to enjoy their particular style. And there are a lot of styles to choose from. Whether you want them pretty faced and disarmingly cute, or scarred up and big enough to pin you like a butterfly, yanderes come in a wide variety of shapes and sizes that are meant to pique your interest and draw you in like a naïve little fish being lured towards the mouth of an angler fish, unwilling to believe that anything bad might happen to us when the bait is this pretty.

This is often referred to as the Halo Effect, a form of cognitive bias referring to the tendency for people to assume that a single obvious positive trait must be associated with other positive traits. The go-to characteristic is typically physical attractiveness, but a nice voice, good humour, and cooking skills are also factors which serve to influence our perceptions.

So, conventional physical attractiveness is one thing, but that’s only skin deep. What about beyond that? After all, the yandere still has to talk to you before they enact their master plan of tying you up in their basement until Stockholm Syndrome kicks in.

When I showed my friend a picture of John Doe from the game John Doe, she told me that he looked like a creepy slob, and she’s far from the only person who’s ever thought so. Look at them. I feel like if I tried to comb that hair it would simply eat me, and some of the CGs really put the scopophobia in Scopophobia Studios. I love Doe, but he is not hot, and he doesn’t behave in a normally appealing way either. If the player chooses not to take a bath, Doe will immediately comment that you “smell good” before following you home, breaking into your house, and leaving a bloody organ on the floor for the player to trip over. Many yanderes can at least fake a veneer of normalcy, but from the get-go Doe doesn’t even bother to pretend he’s anything less than an otherworldly creature stuffed into a vaguely person-shaped meatsuit. In an effort to find out why so many people had latched on to Doe – including me – I shopped around social media and YouTube for answers, and what I found was a widely unanimous sentiment.

While some were drawn to his fun design and goofy personality, most simply thought that he wasn’t inherently malevolent, just very confused. In addition to being a supernatural being with a completely alien axis of morality, Doe’s meta-awareness and unbridled attempts at winning the player’s affection lends him quite a bit of support from the audience, especially if you yourself also happen to struggle with social cues and relate to his pure earnestness. In Ending 7 of the extended version, the player character has the option to tell Doe – who has altered himself to pass as more ‘normal’ – that they prefer who he truly is, at which point he grows visibly flustered and sports an adorable pair of literal heart-shaped pupils.

Whether they’re charismatic, seductive, cute, sweet, funny, nurturing, or generous, the best yanderes have engaging personalities. Even while they’re committing truly heinous crimes against God, man, and your guts, you still kinda want to hang out with them, and you want them to acknowledge you as being just as interesting. And this is all fine in fiction because you’re the one in charge, and if you ever get bored or uncomfortable or busy with something else, then you can simply close the tab or window with zero consequences, which brings us to the final and most important reason.     

Power Dynamics and Consent in Fantasy (I Couldn’t Think of a Joke Here Guys, This Is Kinda Serious)

Once again, I feel that I must preface this section just for the sake of my own peace of mind: sexual coercion and assault are vile and disgusting crimes that should never be emulated or tolerated in the real world. We are speaking purely of fictional media, specifically adult-oriented media in this case, so please be mindful.

In 2009, Bivoni and Critelli conducted a study on 355 undergraduate women with the goal of assessing the reasons behind fantasies of non-consent. At the time, there were two leading explanations of this phenomenon. One stated that women with high libidos but repressed views of sex used these imaginary scenarios to alleviate the guilt they had grown to associate with sex. Because the simulation was a purely mental exercise and they themselves were cast as helpless victims in the scenario, they were able to remain blameless while still finding sexual gratification. The second stated that these fantasies were an expression of liberation by women who were adventurous and comfortable enough with their own sexuality to engage with taboo ideas that they weren’t at all interested in performing in real life. Which do you think was more common?

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If you guessed the second option, you’d be right. The study found that of the 220 women who had experienced such fantasies, 45% found theirs erotic, 46% were mixed, and only 9% reported pure aversion. One justification for this outcome relies on psycho-biological theories, for example masochistic preferences or the unintended activation of the sympathetic nervous system and subsequent mis-attribution of arousal. Other reasons have to do with higher order thinking and are tied to the power dynamics within such fantasies. On the surface is the appeal of being so desirable to someone that they simply cannot control themselves, but then there is a deeper impulse, which the researchers referred to as Adversary Transformation. To quote the article: “[fantasies] involve a struggle between an assailant and a potential victim in which it is relevant to consider who is the winner and who is the loser. At one level, it is a struggle over sex, but the woman's non-consent may be feigned or token. At another level, the woman may be seeking a victory that is not about whether sex occurs, but about what happens emotionally between the protagonists.”

Basically, the imaginary perpetrator may have ‘won’, but the self-character need not have ‘lost’.

Media provides an extra layer to the illusion, one that you as the viewer have absolute control over. If you are choosing to engage with a piece of media that explicitly labels itself as including R18+ yandere content, then you clearly have some expectations, and that background awareness goes a long way in reducing long-term discomfort and allowing audiences to make informed decisions. If you don’t like the plot, you can simply turn it off it with the click of a button, and when the screen goes dark it’s not like the yandere is going to punish you for saying no. Strade isn’t going to break into your house with a drill, there are no homicidal clown ghosts hiding in your TV, and no suspicious pink-haired hackers watching your webcam. They aren’t real, and the consequences aren’t real either. You have all the power here.

Conclusion

In summary, Yanderes are appealing for a variety of reasons. Whether you want to save them, think they’re attractive, wish to indulge in a dream of being utterly coveted, or simply enjoy a bit of spice in your me-time, it’s obvious why the trope has persisted for so long and will likely continue to do so. If you enjoy yanderes but are worried that having a taste for the less wholesome side of things might imply something about who you are as a person, don’t be. The notion that fantasies and media preferences directly reflect subconscious desires is not only painfully out of date debunked nonsense but also indicative of restrictive ideologies wherein bad thoughts = sin. This isn’t 1984. You haven’t committed a thought-crime by having a weird kink. You aren't going to superhell for fantasizing. The human mind is hardly ever so mathematically rational, and the point of fiction is to allow us to safely engage with and explore various ideas, provided the everyone involved is mentally, chronologically, and emotionally mature enough to do so.

Thank you all for listening to me. If you learned something or were just a little bit entertained. If you're curious about knowing more, I've listed my sources below

REFERENCES

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Critelli, J. W., & Bivona, J. M. (2008). Women’s Erotic Rape Fantasies: An Evaluation of Theory and research. Journal of Sex Research, 45(1), 57–70. https://doi.org/10.1080/00224490701808191

DeWall, C. N., & Bushman, B. J. (2011). Social acceptance and rejection. Current Directions in Psychological Science, 20(4), 256–260. https://doi.org/10.1177/0963721411417545

Flynn, F. J., Reagans, R., Amanatullah, E. T., & Ames, D. R. (2006). Helping one’s way to the top: Self-monitors achieve status by helping others and knowing who helps whom. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 91(6), 1123–1137. https://doi.org/10.1037/0022-3514.91.6.1123

Harandi, T. F., Taghinasab, M. M., & Nayeri, T. D. (2017). The correlation of social support with mental health: A meta-analysis. Electronic Physician, 9(9), 5212–5222. https://doi.org/10.19082/5212

Hazen, H. (1983). Endless rapture: rape, romance, and the female imagination. https://openlibrary.org/books/OL3161300M/Endless_rapture

Kroon, R. W. (2010). A/V A to z: An Encyclopedic Dictionary of Media, Entertainment and Other Audiovisual Terms. McFarland.

Matuszak, M. (2017). Hybristophilia White Paper. https://static1.squarespace.com/static/55dfd21ee4b0718764fb34cc/t/5cb7cabee5e5f00ab13be58b/1555548863275/Hybristophilia+White+Paper.pdf

Oarga, C., Stavrova, O., & Fetchenhauer, D. (2015). When and why is helping others good for well-being? The role of belief in reciprocity and conformity to society’s expectations. European Journal of Social Psychology, 45(2), 242–254. https://doi.org/10.1002/ejsp.2092

Parker, R. (2014). Serial killer groupies. RJ PARKER PUBLISHING, INC.

Wang, T., & Sha, H. (2018). The influence of social rejection on cognitive control. Psychology, 09(7), 1707–1719. https://doi.org/10.4236/psych.2018.97101

[poisonousquinzel]

no amount of harlivy being openly together will ever be enough to fix what they've decided to write, produce, animate and air in their 4 seasons to be completely frank.

i care about harley more. i'm for harlivy because of her, i am here for her and her alone. no amount of gayness will ever get this show in my good graces again when they have characteristically massacred my girl, undermined the severity of her origin & prior relationship while hitting every offensive stereotype, joke or idea they possible could throw in.

harlivy being canon and bringing their relationship progression to the attention of a larger audience is quite genuinely the one positive i can say about this universe. But that's it.

them adding that nasty sexist fuckhead to harley's gang immediately should have been enough to clue me in to what we were getting into,, but alas, I was in high-school and didn't care that much about any of this. [But now I do and yall get to hear about it<3]

i will never emotionally get over how we could have a serious, mature r rated animated show focused around Harley and how it could have really shown the horrific and traumatizing aspects of her character/journey that the films didn't, could have shown her struggle with hearing voices and seeing lil Harleen, could have shown her growth as she recovers and deals with the PTSD she would have after being with him

and instead we got.... an offensive, problematic parody show that's essentially redeemed her abuser so he could be made into just another humourous reoccurring character instead of treating his actions like the serious, traumatic vile actions they were, that treats sa victims like drama queen objects to be commented about and gawked at, and then kills them (???) They fucking killed Nightwing and made it so they buried him on his stomach so his coffin could have an ass outline ITS VILE WHAT THE FUCK

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

He's my collar

Synopsis: You were saved by your ex-mentor, then Batman saved you from him. Even with your habilities It seems like you will never stop being a damsel in distress. Don't worry though, you are just a puppy who just got adopted by the best caretaker ever. And he knows what you need even better than yourself.

Pairing: Yandere!Batman X Villain turned hero!Gn!AFAB!Reader; Platonic!Batfam

Tw: 18+; Dubcon between Yan!Bruce X Gn!Reader; Reader has a pussy and an uterus; Grooming?!; Reader is inexperienced and a virgin; Reader is a people pleaser; age gap (Reader is 21 and Bruce is on his 40’s); fingering!reader receiving; mentions of sexu4l harr4sment, s3xual 4ssault and pedoph1lia (nothing happens, reader was just afraid of being a victim growing up); Bruce is very touchy and Reader doesn't know how to feel about that; power imbalance; Reader has intense daddy and trust issues, intrusive thoughts and a rough background; mentions of family loss; fluff, suggestive and angst; manipulation and guilt tripping; platonic!batfamily are happy, Damian loves you and no one knows Bruce is a yandere for you, but they are kinda weirded out by the age gap; English is not my first language.

Word count: 8,5k

Requested? Yes.

Extra notes: that's how I’m picturing villain!reader suit and that's the vigilant suit. Also It was really hard to find cool names for reader’s villain ex-mentor and reader’s villain and hero persona, but you can imagine whatever suit and name you want

General masterlist

You were 11 when your deadbeat father handed you over to Overkill to appease the criminal’s anger. That day, you lost your birth name and became Onslaught.

When you joined him you were afraid your fate would be to become his sex slave, it wouldn't be absurd to think he wanted to use you like that since the last time you saw your father, when he was on his knees, crying for his life to be spared, he cried an offer that your mentor accepted: my kid! Take my kid! They already bleed! Check their underwear! They're already grown, take them and do whatever you want to them! Don't even have to bring them back, take them with you if you want! They can clean and cook and will do whatever you want, I swear! they will keep quiet! I won't tell anyone!

Tsk. Pathetic old man.

Later he told you he only took you in because cruelty against kids was the only line he refused to cross and hated who committed It. He said you were better off with him If your own father made a strange and violent man an offer of such disgusting nature.

Overkill never touched you the way your father expected. If 99% of the time he didn't treat you like a minion, and 1% as his ward, you could even love him. He definitely was your second (shitty) father figure.

Instead, he did make you cook and clean, but only when you weren't training and studying to be his sidekick. He was a villain-for-hire. Sketchy civilians, crime bosses, supervillains and corrupt politicians would hire you both to do the stealing, killing and terrorizing. When you became his, it meant he could get more jobs while working less and earning more. He got 99% of the money and you would get 1%. Literally. If he was in a good mood, felt you deserved a treat or one of the clients showed a liking to you, he gave you more, never more than his own part though.

It was just one more way to keep the leash of the puppy attached to him. Keep you dependent. He also used psychological methods for that, you knew that now.

When you were a kid, before he became your mentor, like every normal child, you developed an obsession. Some liked dinosaurs. Some liked princesses. Some liked insects. You liked wolves. You used to spend hours imagining yourself being one of them. Running through the woods with a pack that would accept, love and protect you. Your cries for help, the night that your father beat your mom to her grave and was close to doing the same to you, were howls to the moon. Calling for help. Calling for someone. But the only one who could hear your frequency was him.

Your savior. Your keeper. The alpha of your little two member pack.

When you were 21 your whole life changed for the second time. Batman caught Overkill, cut off his claws, put a muzzle on him and left him in Belle Reve.

He was merciful to you though, he was a hero after all, and he investigated your history. He gave you options: 1-Live a civilian and lawful life. 2-Learn his ways and become a vigilant by his side, saving lives and all that shit that made heros panties wet. 3-Keep the lifestyle of a criminal and next time he saw Onslaught in action he would break your legs and put you in a cage right next to your packleader's.

You chose the second option.

And that was how Onslaught was dead and Silverclaw was born.

Batman set you up in one of his safehouses, helped get a new identity and you were to patrol the city with him every night. You thought because you were an adult he would leave you on your own when It came to education and a job, he didn't. He insisted on giving you money until you found a common daytime job.

— Are you doing that to make sure I’m not gonna try to monetize from saving people? — You looked at him suspiciously, searching for a facial reaction that could give him away. None came. Dude was really stoic.

— No.

— You are trying to control me then. — You crossed your arms, being mindful of your new claws.

— I’m trying to help you. — Batman stared at you a lot. If you didn't know better you would think he was a statue in the middle of your new living room from how still he was. You huffed. — You can trust me…

— Can I, really? Can you trust me? — You challenged him, half stepping forward and learning slightly in his direction while touching the bat in his chest with the tip of your claw. He didn't react.

— You will show me.

You chose not to respond and resumed your previous actions of looking around your new home. You pretended to just be touring curiously but the man knew you were searching for cameras or bugs he could use to secretly monitor you. Or just have a peepshow.

— You always do this to the rest of your bats? — He didn't answer. — Maybe not all, I imagine Red Hood wouldn't like it. You don't mind that he is a crime lord right? Or is that the reason you are always fighting?! — He still didn't answer. — Wow, Geez, you never shut up, you know?! Let other people talk. Uh, sorry, I shouldn't be talking like that with my new boss, right?

— I'm not your boss.

— Babysitter then?

— Mentor… Until you can work on your own… — You roll your eyes. So much for admitting he didn't trust you yet. Well, you didn't either.

After three months he changed your suit to have a bat brand on your left shoulder, you were an official member of his team, and gave you access to the batcave. You always saw him, some of the others and his butler coming and going from the elevator, but never tried It, even If he never out loud forbade you from doing it. You noticed they were all very close and didn't feel like you belonged among them, so you didn't need to know where that elevator took you, even If you were often in the cave.

On the 5th month you passed out from an injury after saving Robin. Two-face flipped the coin and his bullet was aiming straight to Robin’s head but he was so small that when you ran in front of him it hit your abdomen. You woke up four hours later in the cave and Batman took his mask off and thanked you for saving his son. That night you found out all of their identities and that the elevator took you to Wayne Manor. Damian, Alfred, Bruce, Tim and Dick (who showed up to thank you as soon as he heard what you prevented from happening with his baby brother) all insisted that you spent the night in one of the guest rooms due to your recent injury.

It took a week of you trying to leave until you managed to. Everyone always found a way to convince you to stay. They were nice and It felt like a warm welcome into their group.

— Damian looks up to you. — Bruce calmly stated after stopping in front of you one day, a month after your recovery was complete and you were out and about at night again. After watching you sparing with Robin for an hour and a half, the opened case was officially forgotten on his ‘batcomputer’ behind him.

— Yeah, I can really feel him putting all his love on his tiny fists when he hits me and leave me bruised and sore for days. — You comment nonchalantly while taking a sip of water and glancing at the kid running towards the elevator. Your mentor snorted.

— He wants you to see him as someone on your level or above. To know that he is reliable and you can call for him when you need help. He did the same with everyone here. Chalenged them, I mean. — You open your mouth to respond but freeze and your arm instintively moves on its own to grip his wrist when he tries to touch your shoulder.

You both stare a each other frozen and in silence for a few seconds before you snap out of it and let go of his wrist.

— My bad.

His hand is still in the air and he slowly retreats It to his side while still analizing you.

— Are you scared of me? — You shake your head hurriedly.

— It was instinct. — You leave It at that.

You both spend a few moments just staring the other down until he clears his throat and step back.

— I’m on a case. You need to work on your detective skills more. Are you free now or are you going to your nest? — You felt deeply grateful for his change of subject and agreed.

You went to grab another seat but his long legs beat you to It, rolled the chair in the direction of the computer and gentlemanly gestured for you to seat down, pushing the chair forward to accommodate you when your tights touched the padding. You raised your eyebrows wearily after the whole interaction but didn't react more than that while he situated himself on his ‘batseat’ beside you.

After a few minutes you unconsciously relaxed your muscles and your conversation went on for hours. You were delightened by how easy It was to talk to him, the first time It didn't feel like an interaction between you that wasn't strictly mentor and apprentice, instead, It felt more like a friend giving you tips and you sucked up on all the knowledge and attention he provided you. He seemed in a good mood and even gave you his signature small smile and praised you a few times when you got something right.

At some point Alfred came down to provide you both with tea and snacks, he seemed to pause for a second while his eyes flew from you to Bruce, who was behind you since you turned around to acknouledge his entrance, covering most of his emotions towards the sight. He semeed kinda… Intrigued. Maybe surprised or awkward. You hacked your brain trying to understand but he turned around and left, Bruce was pushing your cup into your hands before you came to any conclusion.

— You like tea? — He questioned and the contrast between this question and the gory case you were discussing seconds before amused you.

— Uhh, I guess? — You brought the cup closer to your lips, copying his actions as he did the same while looking at you casually. — I like more coffee though, and Overkill was a coffee enthusiast so we drank a lot.— You scrunched your nose at the fleeting memory of your old mentor and the weird reminder that he had a human personality behind his usual strict behavior.

Bruce's eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly for a second before the expression vanished. He never held back when it came to showing contempt towards anyone from his team’s past who was associated with crime.

— Were you close to him? — Suddenly he seemed more serious. You wondered if you were misreading the mood this whole time or were just doing it right now.

— Hmm… Not really… It's complicated… - You took another sip.

— I’m listening. — He seemed sincere. Apparently you were having a break from work.

— He wasn't all bad, I mean, he saved me, but… He still kept me around for all business… — Part of you felt like grieving for some reason. — I guess I ended up seeing him as as father figure, or I wanted to, but… — Bruce held himself not to tense. For the first time since the work talk stopped he took his eyes off of your face and looked at his cup. — He just… He knew how to keep his distance while still keeping me by his side 24/7. — He looked at you again, with a more neutral semblance than before. — At leash until I turned 18. He changed when I turned 18. — Bruce furrowed his eyebrows with concern. It was still odd to know someone cared about you.

— How so?

You cleared your throat. It was the first time you thought about the past since becoming a lonely wolf, or rather, you thought you were a lonely wolf, that changed when you realized you now had friends. Thinking about the past was pointless when you barely had something to be nostalgic about. You only had memories you desperately wanted to forget.

— Well… You know how his only weak spot are kids. When I hit 18, I stopped being a kid for him. I was finally too old to commit mistakes. I think he saw me as a possible threat and wanted to prevent me from becoming one by proving how much power he had over me. He was a boss for me just as much as any goom beneath him.

Bruce nodded thoughtfully. You didn't say more, afraid of delving too much on something you avoided to think about until your darkest nights.

Suddenly you felt your whole body tense when you felt his warm and big hand rest just above your knee and squeeze. You fixed your gaze on his hand but didn't move more than that. It felt strange, you weren't used to gentle touches and maybe there was something more, you Just didn't now what yet. It got worse when he kept his palm there and went further, rolling his thumb in circles around your clothed knee. The thick sweatpants fabric kept the barrier of intimacy up albeit the heat radiating off of him somehow challenged it. How can someone be so warm? You envied people who where always warm like that. You hated feeling cold — one of the reasons why you liked your suit so much.

— I’m sorry about that… — His voice mande your eyes snap to his again, he had a sincere expression. It was off putting and seemed out of character since he was always stoic, at least around you.

You bite your lip in a display of nervousness that escaped your usually well conceived emotions. Your heart beat faster when for a fleeting second he looked at your mouth and just as fast he was fixed on your eyes again. You didn't think the action had any hidden meaning, nor was it intentional, still, you felt the the need to run and hide.

— … Sure… — You moved to cross your legs, silently prompting him to finally take his hand off after lingering for too long. You looked back to the computer, determined to ignore what just happened and reflect on what it meant later. You missed his displeasement.

Bruce never expected himself to feel attracted to you. As he got older, the age range of the people he felt attracted to accompanied his age. He kept to himself and willed it away at first, but you were so… You.

You tried acting cold, kinda like him. But you needed him and strays always caught his attention. Unlike his kids he had a hunch that you wouldn't flourish by being independent and left on your own. You needed a keeper.

At first he felt like a creep every time your body caught his attention or he found himself staring at you for longer than intended. He was hyperaware everytime you two were close, wich usually was when sparring.

Bruce thought that taking you in as his protegee would satiate his need to take care of you and have you close, but after months of paying your bills and mentoring you, he realized his feelings for you were not platonic.

And it seemed like he was not the only one.

He knew the rest of the family noticed his “fleeting” touches that would linger on your shoulder, arms, back and knee. He retracted himself every time you showed clear disfomfort though, but you never outright rejected him.

His theory of his family's knowledge of his interest in you was confirmed one night when Nightwing stopped by to borrow some equipment and witnessed Batman closer than necessary to Silverclaw, while taking too much to inspect — with his eyes and his hands — your gloves that you were wearing and apparently had recently been upgraded.

— Hey, guys! — Dick’s hesitacion towards the scene grew but kept hidden when you both looked up at him surprised. Somehow he caught you both off guard even if the elevator was not that silent. Dick noted that Silverclaw seemed slightly wide-eyed, the only feature in your suit that was left exposed, along with your eyebrows, while Bruce, who wasn't wearing the cow, maintained a neutral expression, like he didn't have anything to hide. You both greeted him when surprise subsided and you took a step back from Bruce, like you just realized your proximity.

— Hmm… I should get going… Gonna meet Red Robin on the docks in a few. — Both men acknowledged your presence again and Dick saw your awkwardness, his parent seemed fine though.

Bruce nodded to you and you suddenly felt like a sidekick who had just gotten permission from Overkill to do something you were supposed to be doing with or without his approval, but needed to make sure your superior thought it to be appropriate for the mission. A soldier reporting to their captain. Like you never actually took a step forward and everything was the same. It made you feel small and hollow. Gave a bad taste to your mouth. It didn't feel good. But you ignored it because it was all in your head.

Before you could move, the oldest hand shot to your waist and squeezed briefly the soft flesh there as best as he could with the armor in the way. You felt your blood freeze and shivered.

— Be careful. We don't know what Killer Croc is doing there. And take care of Red Robin, he only had 10 hours of sleep in the last three days. — You meekly and wordlessly nodded and robotically left on your bike while feeling a pair of eyes scrutinizing your every move.

Dick cleared his throat, finally catching the Dark Knight’s attention for good.

— Dick. Do you need something? — Bruce turned to his work table and started tinkering with what apparently he was doing before you interrupted him earlier.

— I mean, just came to take a spare mask, I think the camera lenses on mine broke. But since I’m already here… — The younger alonged the last word while hopping to his father’s side. — B, can I talk to you about something? Don't be mad. — That made Bruce worried. Dick cringed at his own wording and the older male turned to him and crossed his arms.

— What happened? — Bruce demanded in a Batman’s voice.

— Nothing! Nothing. Sorry, my bad. What I meant was… Are you sure that's what you want? — At his dad’s confused furrowed eyebrows the hero explained. — (Y/N). I mean… They’re quite young, you know?! It's a lot of responsibility... I don't think they've ever dated anyone, even if they're between Jason and Tim’s age and Tim’s a whore… Too much of a slut for his own age, actually- Not the point. It's just, everyone noticed and have been commenting about it, but I don't think they noticed already. — Nightwing leaves it at that, hoping that his father understands what he was trying to say, desperately trying not to have to explain more and feel like he is teaching his own father the ‘puberty will make your body change’ and the ‘birds and bees’ talk, or ‘bats and wolves’ talk, in this case.

Bruce blinked.

— Are you trying to give me the sex talk? — And there goes all his hard work. — And stop swearing. — Dick groans and runs his hand through his face.

— Nooo, why do you make everything so difficult? It’s just… First of all, we trust you okay? It just feels weird when you start flirting with them, especially for the ones that live here. I mean, me and Jason still have nightmares and get the creeps when we remember the time when you used to date Selina. And Damian almost pukes every time Talia tries to rizz you up again. — Dick is careful to dance around the subject of your more than two decades age gap. — And, like I said, I don't think (Y/N) has much experience either. Maybe they don’t know what you're doing. Just… Go slow, okay?!

Bruce holds a huff for the sake of being stoic.

He already envisioned the possibility of you having none or little experience before, and you haven't done anything that told him otherwise yet. Deep down he is kinda… Turned on knowing he could be your first everything. Teach you just how he likes. Be the only one to ever know what you like. He's also happy that, by the way his son said it, it looks like everyone thinks you are both closer than you really are. More intimate, romantic. He and you are the only ones who know that you never had a conversation about the change in your dynamic, limits, future and general status. He thinks you are conflicted, and this conversation only encouraged him to either lay down the cards for you or catch you off guard and put you against the wall. Metaphorically.

And maybe literally.

He's also not going to think too deep in the warm feeling he feels when thinking about corrupting an innocent puppy who isn't even aware of his intentions.

A sheep in wolf's clothing.

— I know all about that, Dick. Don't worry, I'm being mindful of their timing.

— You should move to the manor.

Bruce's blurted out sentence caught you so off guard you choked on your rich people's food. You knew he was simmering something in his mind the whole morning.

He recently got you to work as his assistant in Wayne Enterprises. You felt he either pitied you for having been forced to drop school when you were 11 you couldn't find many options that allowed you to live a comfortable life — in the standards of an old money billionaire at least —, and your lack of education wasn't a problem to be solved fast. You just didn't know he wanted a solid excuse to be your sole provider forever and wanted you close to him all the time.

He also liked how you looked in formal attire. Developed a fantasy of bending you over the table and taking you from behind. Making you suck him off under the table. Then get on his knees and reciprocate the favor. Became obsessed with the sight of the first buttons of your shirt open, exposing your neck and collarbone. Was hooked on how it made your chest look. Was bent on making you lean forward to give him a flash of what's under your shirt.

He was never this perverted for anyone his whole life. You must be special.

The Wayne was unbothered with your choking while people on the other tables glanced your way, he simply chose to pat you on the back — and not take his hand off when you felt better, you still didn't know how to feel about the touchy nature he adopted when with you. He never hurt you, but was it really… Appropriate?

He is your mentor. He is a lot older. Your inner child cried for him to take you in as one more of his children, heal your daddy issues.

Another part of you, on the other hand, thought of you to be too old for him to simply claim you as his child — he took in his children who were close to your age when they were kids —. That part also told you you were undeserving of love, that everyone just wanted to take advantage of you, and that authority figures should shove it up their asses.

Your intrusive thoughts remarked that if he really wanted you sexually — obviously romantically was not an option. All you are is an object. —, well, he is very attractive. And even If you decide that you don't want him that way… You should just take It. He is above you. It's just how hierarchy works. He protects you. He takes care of you. You should be grateful and stay on his good side.

You internally shake your head. No. That's not how it works.

You took a sip of water.

— What are you talking about? Why? — You look at him, trying to understands where this is coming from. Sure, living alone was kinda lonely, but freeing, you didn't feel like you needed to seek anyone's approval or permission when you were alone. Besides, you were barely on your nest now that he got you this job anyway. And Damian seemed to like running off and sleeping in your place when he and Bruce were having their disaccords.

— Well, for one, it would give me peace of mind, it's safer with us. It would also make It easier for you, you wouldn't have to drive home alone at 3 a.m after patrols. — You raised an eyebrow at his current list of reasons. The 1st might be right. But the 2nd was like saying you were a civilian walking home after your shift at your civilian job. Not a vigilant, ex-criminal with 10 years of experience in hand-to-hand combat, maneuvering of weapons, who rides a motorcycle to a toptech safehouse while carrying a bat-utility belt and stainless steel claws. You kept your mouth shut when he seemed to have more reasons. — Damian would love to have you closer, the others too, but you know you are his second favorite. — Your heart felt warm at that. After learning the reason for the puppy’s bites, you couldn't help but see a bit of yourself in him, since you had similar backgrounds. You tried to subtly give him a safe space so he wouldn't turn out to be like you. You didn't want that for anyone. Especially a kid. — And also… I want you closer.

You took a deep breath while nodding slowly and trying not to react. Looks like it's time to acknowledge the elephant in the room. Suddenly his hand on your back felt heavier and burning hot.

— Why? — Your tone and steely expression made it clear you demanded a clear and honest answer from him. One he didn't hesitate to give you.

Faking a confused expression, he tilted his head slightly to the side.

— What do you mean why? I want you (Y/N). — Your blood froze. — I think it's been very clear that I’m in love with you. — You felt like you received a punch to the gut. — I… Thought you felt the same… — No, he didn't.

You didn't know what to say.

Bruce slowly retracted his hand away from you, but you stopped him midair by grabbing it. He knew it was time to take the next step.

You didn't even know why you did that. Do you feel the same for him?

— I… I… — Your mouth was opening and closing like a fish. He nodded understandably.

— It’s okay. You need time to think. My offer still stands. Even if you don't feel the same… I Just care about you above anything, okay? — You reluctantly nodded, staring at him almost dumbfounded. He smiled lightly to show he was still in good spirits.

After a moment of pondering he bit his lower lip, took his hand closer to your face and caressed your cheek, eyes stuck on his face, mesmerized. You were surprised someone as generous and rightful as him could look at you like that. Admirating you like you weren't tainted.

He even gave you a choice! And told you he cared about you! No matter if you feel the same!

He would certainly be a good man to love.

— Say ‘thank you’ to (Y/N), Damian.

— TT. Thank you, (L/N). — The little green-eyed puppy was looking from you to his present repeatedly. Months prior, when Batman first took you in, before you even had the bat insignia on your shoulder, you caught Robin sitting on a roof reading Death Note on his phone. You didn't know what it was and he pretended to be annoyed with your interruption while explaining it. Now, he is completing 14 and you bought him the whole set of volumes. You wanted him to know that you paid attention and cared about him. You wished someone did that when you were his age. Overkill didn't want to hear about wolves or about the cool new things you were seeing for the first time on your trips together.

You smiled.

— You’re welcome, pups. — Damian let out a ‘TT’ again and turned around to run to his friend Jon. You could almost see their wagging tails while they excitedly talked about his present. Bruce's hand running in circles in the small of your back snapped you out of it and you straightened your posture from the bent position you took to talk to the little one.

It was two weeks prior that he asked you to live with them. You accepted and moved a week ago. It was slightly disappointing to know you wouldn't gain a father out of him, but a least his confession made it easier to understand your feelings. You haven’t outright told him that you wanted him like a man, you were testing things out. In the end, you were both adults and at some point you had to learn to trust someone. When looking at Damian you knew you didn't want your whole life to be defined by the abuses of two men. And when you agreed to his offer he seemed to see it as a consent to up his seduction.

His touch was still strange. You learned to like the feel of it, and you were getting used to it, soon It wouldn't be so foreign. You just started realizing how touchstarved you were and were just starting to crave it. Initiating it was still a distant concept, though, you had a — strongly equivocate — hunch that he wouldn't like it, that you would do something wrong in the simplest attempt of hugging him, holding his hand or touching his arm, that your touch wouldn't feel as delicate and tingly as his was, and you would make a fool of yourself. At least when you patted Ace, Titus, Alfred the cat and Batcow they seemed happy.

The others seemed to take well to seeing your interaction together — you didn't know they already knew where this was going way before yourself —. Sure, Jason called him a cradle robber but the ex-Robin always found an excuse to offend him. Everyone laughed at his comment, Dick and Alfred lightly reprimanded him (the former way more amused the latter). Bruce didn't react. You felt rotten. And when Jason later said something like “now Bruce, go play with your puppy and let us handle things” during a briefing, you knew it wasn't an offense — at least, not towards you. Plus, he called you a puppy before to tease you even if you were a year younger than him. — but it stuck in your head and you took the first opportunity to escape Batman’s hand on your tight and lock yourself in a bathroom to take a breath.

— I will transfer the money to your account. — Your head snapped towards Bruce and you exclaimed a genuine and loud ‘What?’, but everyone around you was also being way too loud for anyone to pay attention to you. Bruce hummed. — The set. It must’ve been expensive, I will give you the money back. — You shook your head.

— No, Bruce, It was a present. — Just the idea of it was absurd. What an odd man.

— Well, not to me, right?! So I can do It. — You scoffed at his logic. — Actually you could have told me before you were buying it and I would have given you my card. — He blinked. — That reminds me… — He took your hand and gently guided you out of the living room where the party was situated. No one batted an eye.

Damian had scoffed at the childish idea of a birthday party, but you could see right through him better than anyone.

You looked around confused as he guided you through the corridors and then up the stairs. The loud voices getting distant made the rest of the mansion feel eerily empty.

— Where are we going? — He glanced back at you and then ahead again, before briefly squeezing your hand.

— To my study. I have something for you there.

His response didn't satisfy all your curiosity but you knew he wouldn't give you more than that.

When you got there he opened the door for you and encouraged you to enter first with a hand on your lower back, then he shut the door closed and guided you to stand in front of his table. He walked around, opened a cabinet, took ou an envelope and came back to your side. The older male extended the envelope at you, who took it with suspicion after a moment of hesitation.

You forced yourself to not look up while you analyzed the envelope and opened it, ignoring both of his warm and gigantic hands that he positioned on your waist and squeezed — he liked squeezing you a lot, you noticed. — while he lightly reclined himself to sit on top of the table, in front of you, most of his weight being distributed to his long and meaty legs that were also on each side of you. He even pulled you closer and even if there was still space between your bodies, you were close enough to feel his heat.

You looked at the content inside the paper and froze. Such reaction could have come either from the sight of a black card with your name on it or because he chose that moment to sneak his hands under your shirt and caress your bare waist slowly with his calloused fingertips.

— No. — You slapped the card and paper against his chest. The bastard didn't react.

— Yes.

— No!

— Yes.

— I can't take it! — You kicked the ground stubbornly. He still didn't move, stubbornly.

— Why not? — You raised both eyebrows.

— Bruce, are you kidding me? That thing is limitless.

— Your point being? — You blinked several times.

— Wow… I knew you were one of those rich eccentric guys, but putting on a batsuit… — You refused to call it a costume and imply that you also wore a costume and were technically a furry. You learned that word from Tim. — … And beating up criminals is one thing. Going around distributing limitless cards to all your friends is simply insane! — One side of his mouth tilted up in what you quietly admitted was a sexy smark.

— Actually if I wanted to do that I could. But you are not a friend. You are part of the family. And my girlfriend. — And mine. His tongue craved to utter.

That easily silenced you. You didn't know how to react to that. You hacked your brain for any moment were you told him something in that connotation. You didn't find it. But well, couldn't blame the guy, he did told you he wanted you and you didn't stop his moves.

You cleared your throat, trying to hide your shock. He didn't seem surprised by your reaction.

It was another thing that being with them changed in you. You don't control your emotions 24/7 anymore, only when you are out and about as Silverclaw. In the past it was second nature, but feeling happiness was so new to you that you weren't used to trying to hide it yet. Nor wanted to. And you slowly gave yourself permission to be free and express most of what you felt. Not everything, you were still surrounded by a very odd-cryptic-strategizing-hyperanalyser-micro-expressions-reader-and-weird-with-emotions group of people. But you felt no one was really going to judge you if you chose to be free.

— I-I… Yeah… Yeah, okay. You are right. — You meekly accepted his statement. If he said it was true, then it was true. You would follow his lead. You are way too loyal and he knows that. You both wondered what was your limit. You were afraid of what would happen when that limit came. Would you just keep going just to make him happy? He hoped you did.

Actually, he might test some of those limits right now.

He carefully took the card and envelope from your hand and set it on the table behind him, you just rested your palms against his chest. Baby steps for you. Bruce wished that baby was a speedster.

You stuttered when he brought you closer, leaned forward and started tracing a random path of kisses on the skin of your neck. You allowed his sucking and laping of your skin for a few minutes and even tried running your fingers through the hair on the back of his head. His hands started roaming.

When his right squeezed the left cheek of your ass though, you gave a slight jump. It felt very sudden and activated your fight or flight instinct.

— W-We should go back downstairs. — You blurted out. Bruce just hummed in response, the vibration tickling your neck and ear. Aside from that he didn't stop his ministrations and that made you feel worse. Maybe you were the problem? Were you not clear enough? Shouldn't you endure more? For you? For him? He was used to people going a lot further with him, and here you were, trying to force him to stop just when he tried to spice things up with you. For fuck’s sake, you haven't even kissed him yet!

You bit your lip and willed your muscles to relax. Maybe all you need to do is endure a little bit more and you will get used to it. Until now that seemed to be the pattern.

Ignoring your pounding heart, you closed your eyes and just tried to enjoy it. You thought it was working until suddenly he stopped, and before you could open your eyes, stole a kiss from you.

It didn't grow to more than a half-second peck because your instincts to run took over your body and you jumped away from him, your hands extended in front of your body like you were dealing with a wild animal.

You just stared at each other with almost wide eyes for a few seconds, before the older male sighed, looked down and pressed the bridge of his nose with his pointer and thumb. Oh no. He wasn't happy. You shouldn't have done that. You fucked up.

— I’m sorry. — Bruce looked stressed when he rubbed his hand around his face, then brought it up to push his perfectly styled hair back. You shook your head like a scared kid. He finally looked up at you. — I’m sorry. I shouldn't have done that.

— No, no, it’s okay, I… Liked it. — You almost whispered in a meek voice. — Was just surprised. — Bruce nodded. He was unhappy with himself that he got carried away and almost fucked things up with you. But his infatuation made him lose train of thought sometimes. Yes. He wants to do bad things to you, corrupt you, desperately. But he doesn't want you trying to run away from him just yet, if ever.

You slowly made your way towards him again, your arms around your body, trying to bring yourself comfort. You wanted him to hug you and comfort you the same way, but you didn't know if he would do that, and if he did touch you again, would it really make you feel better?

It felt wrong. You just now had asked for him to stop completely, or at least give you a break, and he blatantly ignored it. Made you feel invisible, insignifcant, desperate enough to run. And here you were, seeking for a signal that he wouldn't give up on you just yet.

— Did… Did you know I never had a birthday party? — You forced yourself not to vacillate and put your hands on his shoulders.

— Hmm? — He gazed at you curiously but didn't touch you yet. It made you feel anxious and you forced yourself to take another step closer. Now you were just as close as you were before.

— I never had a birthday party. And last time I was invited to one I was 10. I didn't get to go though, it was my best friend's party, but my father was in a bad mood, so my mom said it was better not to do anything that could set him off. So I stayed home. — You felt his fingertips caressing tracing both of your tights carefully, it could almost be an unconscious move by how intensely concentrated he seemed with your story. — Next day, at school, everyone was talking about how fun, cool and amazing it was. I felt jealous and said I would have the best birthday party ever when I hit 11. I didn't. And no one remembered my promise. — He nodded slowly, his eyebrows furrowed with what was probably sympathy at you and anger at you father. At least that's how you felt. Sad for the younger you and hatred towards your father. — If you could… — You elongated your sentence, trying to hint your request for him, and he cut you off just like you wanted, expressing what was on his mind.

— What's your favorite cake flavor?

The gala ended just about an hour ago but you were both already in bed. Domesticity came easy when living together and even when you had your own room — much to his dismay. — Bruce quickly worked on getting you used to him enough to lay down beside him. And right now he was very grateful that you didn't have socials or else his plans for the night would’ve been interrupted by your discomfort about being called ‘Bruce Wayne’s controversially young new sweetheart’ and comments about his playboy mask.

He was getting impatient but Bruce knew that all good things come slowly, he took the night off to focus only on his goal.

You were laid down on your bed, in your own room and he was beside you, facing you, while you both talked, held hands and occasionally exchanged chaste kisses. It was cute, and innocent, but his balls had been blue since the party three weeks ago.

It was fine when his right hand let go of your left, his arm being thrown around your waist to accommodate the position, and placed on your middle. He kept running his hand around your upper body slowly and you swayed closer to him. At this point the only sounds in the room came from kisses and the friction of skin against fabric.

When Bruce angled himself and pushed in your direction until he was on top of you, It was still okay. What made you startled and nervous was when he pressed his hips down and you felt his hard cock against your thigh — the back of your mind screamed about how big he was and how it wouldn't fit when the time comes.

— Hmm… Bruce? — You felt a little antsy, but you thought he would understand what you were trying to say. Didn't seem like the case, since he kept kissing you to silence you. You felt suffocated and that prompted you to push his chest weekly. Maybe you needed to give a clearer signal.

Bruce stared at you from above for a second before closing his eyes and sighing.

His reaction shocked you and you didn't move when he got off and plopped down beside you again, this time putting more distance between your bodies and facing the ceiling. He draped his arm over his face and took a deep breath.

You sheepishly tilted to your side and went closer to him, his possible annoyance towards you made you more reluctant to touch him, but you did it anyway, trying to appease him.

— Bruce…

— What is it? — He finally looked at you. He was not happy. — You don't trust me yet? — His furrowed brows, grave voice and held back tone intimidated you slightly, it just caused more worry.

— N-No, it's not that… — Bruce thought it was better to turn down a notch on his acting if he wanted to have his way with you tonight.

He nodded, relaxed his muscles and turned his body in your direction again. He draped his arm around your waist and started trailing slow kisses down your neck to calm you down.

— I know. I know, puppy. — He uttered carefully and nodded reassuringly. — It's not your fault. I'm just a little… Frustrated, is all. — Your brows cinched.

— Frustrated with… Me? — Your heart ached at the thought. It was hard hearing him, and just as hard saying it out loud. Bruce shook his head.

— I just don't understand. I’ve been taking care of you for so long, been waiting for you, doing so much for you. But it's like you are still guarding yourself from me… I love you, pup, you are everything to me and I desire you. Wanna make you feel good. But, sometimes, you make me feel like… Like you don't feel the same… — You heart fell and you felt an urge to fix your mistakes.

— But I-I do! I just… — A sigh and then a deep breath. — … How can I do better? — You said meekly.

Bruce held back a smirk, you were smart even if insecure, and preening would give off his lewd plotting.

The dark knight pretended to contemplate for a brief moment as if he didn't plan every step beforehand.

— … We don't have to go all the way now, you could just… You could let me finger you? — Half of you felt relieved, the other, the one that just wanted to keep him happy, felt nervous but determined.

Your inexperienced and people pleaser mind couldn't comprehend how him doing things to you could also be considered him taking advantage of you. That was one of your biggest nightmares and paranoia. Growing up you were always afraid that your ex-mentor would assault you, or allow one of his employers and colleagues to hurt you just because they asked or paid for some fun with the young pretty thing. Especially after you weren't underage anymore, since he only seemed to have a soft spot for them. It somehow, thankfully, never happened, only impure comments were made and he cut them off every time until you were 18, after that you were left on your own and if you didn't do anything he saw it as you wanting it to happen since he trained you more than enough to protect yourself and show authority with others that were not him.

If Bruce wanted to pleasure you and not himself… Then he was really selfless and only wanted to help you with your little problem. He's been taking such good care of you for so long, there’s no reason to believe he won't do the same now.

So you nodded, shaken.

You let him maneuver you how he wanted and ended up the same way your making out session started, you on your back and the older man facing your direction. You watched closely and willing your heart to stop pounding as he undressed your legs and hips from your pants and underwear. It was awkward feeling so exposed, especially when he sneaked his arm between your legs and started fondling your dry center.

— Relax… Deep breaths… Just close your eyes and enjoy it… — His grave and husky voice whispers in your ear before teeth start nibbling on it, your whole body shivered and you did as he instructed, not sure if it was working until his friction felt less burning and waves of pleasure started rolling through you. You were right, he always wanted what's good for you, you reassured yourself and felt a little comforted, even if your heart was still pounding.

You let out a surprised gasp and your eyes shot open when you heard a loud wet squelch, the first thing you saw thing you saw were the movements of his wrist, the second, his face, eyes dead set on observing you, and he chuckled at your reaction.

— See? No reason to worry… — And worry you did not. You knew this short period of nervousness and those guilty feelings you were experiencing would be worth it in the future. And Bruce knew the risks he took and manipulation were proving their value right now.

He changes his up and down movements to circles and you let out a sound that you never heard coming out of your own mouth. Your eyes fluttered close automatically and your hand shot to grip his shirt with an unconscious amount of force.

— I-I like this better… — Bruce hummed and resumed working his mouth from your ear, to neck and collarbone.

His hand moves were slow and deliberate, but stable. The older man angles his body in an upper position so he could easily use his left hand to pull your shirt up slowly until your chest and pouting nipples were exposed. Lost in arousal and pleasure and thrusting he knew what he was doing you didn't bat an eye towards his actions.

You moaned louder when you felt his soft chapped lips close around your nipple and wet warm tongue playing with the sensitive bud. Bruce felt your lower lips getting wetter and used that to his advantage to intrude the squelching hole between your legs with his fingers curved upwards, his thumb expertly still running circles around your clit.

You gasped and both your hands shot to grab the bed comforter under you. It was the first time someone touched you like that and it was a while since you played with your bud yourself, so before you knew it, your pussy was squeezing and milking his fingers in the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had and this time the man couldn’t stop his grin from taking over his face.

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pent up // hoshina soshiro

tw ⇢ semi public sex, biting, marking, nipple play, dirty talk, established relationship, unprotected sex, begging, fingering, mention of male masturbation

wc ⇢ 1.2k

a/n: not satisfied with this one either…and i keep forgetting that this guy has a kansai dialect

The lab was cloaked in near total darkness, save for the bluish glow of the monitors humming in standby mode. You suppressed a yawn as you entered the data from today's latest round of kaiju cell analyses, the rhythmic clacking of keys filling the stillness.

At least these late night sessions afforded you some peace and privacy to focus without distractions. With the spike in kaiju activity lately, you'd been logging far too many long hours bent over these microscopes and petri dishes--

"Well, well...what do we have here?"

You jolted ramrod straight at the teasing baritone that seemed to resonate directly against the back of your neck. Before you could whirl around, a pair of corded, muscular arms snaked around your midsection from behind, anchoring you against a powerful, chiseled chest as hot lips ghosted over the racing pulse at your throat.

"Working late again without me, baby?" Soshiro growled in a voice dripping with playful accusation. "You know how I hate being left out like this..."

Your breath hitched at the delicious vibrations thrumming against your nape with each rasping word. He plastered himself fully along your backside - every rigid, defined plane molding against your softer curves so deliciously you nearly whimpered. The rigid outline of his rapidly swelling cock nudged insistently against your ass, leaving no doubt as to his state of riled desire.

"S-Soshiro!" you exhaled shakily. "I thought you were still out in the field--"

"Mmmm, got done sooner than expected," he rumbled in smug contentment, nuzzling deeper into your hairline to pepper kisses there. "Lucky me too, otherwise I might've missed the chance to catch my gorgeous girlfriend working late all alone...again..."

He punctuated the accusation by rolling his hips forward in a slithery, teasing grind that sent liquid fire pooling between your thighs instantly. You gasped at the blatant lust riding his every motion, hands flying up to grip his corded forearms reflexively as need swamped through your veins.

"Fuck, I've been so goddamn worked up without you around," Soshiro groaned against the slick skin beneath your jaw, fangs grazing there in stinging little nips. "Jerking off twice a day just thinking about burying myself in this perfect body until you're a goddamn mess..."

He reached up to shove your sweater and shirt aside with impatient motions, dragging the soft cup of your bra down to bare one breast to the open air. You shuddered violently as cool oxygen seared your inflamed skin - nipple tightening into a rigid point that Soshiro wasted no time lavishing with rough swipes of his tongue.

"Nngh, 'Shiro! We c-can't..." you tried in a broken whimper, even as your spine arched wantonly into the scorching heat of his mouth. "Not here, someone could--"

"So what?" he growled against your saliva-slick flesh, sucking a lurid mark into the tender swell hungrily. "Let them finally see how crazy you make me after being denied for weeks...hear how pretty you sound when I fuck you like my life depends on it..."

His hand found the waistband of your slacks in the same breath, dipping past the lacy barrier of your panties to swipe his knuckles over your dripping entrance with devastating bluntness. An inarticulate noise punched itself from your throat in stunned rapture at the glide of his calloused fingers seeking out your swollen clit.

"God, you're so fucking soaked already," Soshiro snarled in husky approval. "Told you how much I've been thinking about devouring this perfect little pussy of yours, didn't I?"

You cried out shamelessly, nails scoring down his forearms as he speared two thick digits past your fluttering folds to the last knuckle. His thumb found your aching clit, thrumming tight little circles that shattered your vision in white nova bursts.

"So good for me, opening up so beautifully," he praised roughly against the corner of your slack mouth, teeth scoring your earlobe in a stinging burn. "Like your greedy little cunt was made to milk me dry again and again..."

Distantly, you registered the sounds of him shucking his pants off behind you with frantic motions, the heavy line of fat cock finally springing free. You rolled your hips in mindless desperation, chasing the delicious friction of his thrusting fingers urgently.

"Yes, yesss, Soshiro!" you babbled around a helpless stream of sobs and moans. "Please, I need...need you to..."

"Shhh, baby...I've got you," he growled with dark reassurance in your ear, swollen cockhead finding your entrance with precision guidance.

You keened at the thick stretch and glorious impalement as he hilted himself to the root in one smooth, fluid roll of his hips. Behind you, Soshiro released a ragged sound of bliss, hot breath fanning over your nape as he savored the velvet heat enveloping his aching cock at last.

"Fuuuuck...baby, you feel so goddamn tight, squeezing me so fucking perfectly..."

You could only whimper and rut back against his bulk needfully in response - utterly overwhelmed by the sheer size and weight of him buried so profoundly. The slick noises of his withdrawal teased obscene symphonies in the quiet lab, only for his girthy thrust home to pummel the breath from your lungs anew in rapture.

Over and over, he ground into your convulsing walls at a ruthless, relentless cadence - every snap of his lean hips punctuated by rough groans and fevered praises filtering against your sweat-slick skin. The unyielding suction of his chest to your back anchored you in sublime torment, his hands possessively palming and groping every lush curve as he staked his dominion.

"Just like that, sweetheart," Soshiro growled in your ear as his pounding rhythm punched guttural noises from the depths of your being. "Hold those gorgeous tits for me while I ruin that tight cunt, fuck...taking me so fucking deep, squeezing so tight..."

His sharp canines found the fevered juncture of your neck and shoulder in an implacable bite, the fiery sting only amplifying the maddening friction splitting you apart from root to core. In the same breath, he latched one calloused hand around your throat - not squeezing, just a heavy grounding vice as he pistoned deeper.

You bucked back onto him, relishing the addictive drag of his veiny cock along your rippling walls. Every gasping moan and keen shattered against the sterile air surrounding you both, as if to defy the pristine silence entirely in favor of hedonistic ruin at last.

Soshiro railed into you with gradually increasing savagery, fingers bruising at your hip and throat as his climax mounted insurmountably. Something molten and feverish kindled to rapturous life behind your fluttering lids. Finally...

"Mine..." he snarled through gritted teeth, teeth scoring your nape and back arching as release crested. "Say it, [Y/N]...you're fucking mine, only ever fucking mine..."

"Yours!" you howled unintelligibly, every nerve ending splintering into infinite fragments of ecstasy at his brutal claiming. "Always yours, Soshiro, oh fuck...!"

Your shared shouts splintered to hoarse shrieks of blissful rapture as his shaft pounded home in one final, bestial thrust. Thick, creamy cum flooded your convulsing pussy torridly as Soshiro threw back his head and roared your name - muscles corded in stark relief while his climax milked out in pulse after pulse of abandon.

Your juices gushed freely around his iron length, spasming through soaring peaks and crashing falls of blinding intensity until exhaustion finally bled into a twilight half-consciousness. Dimly, you felt his slick, softening cock withdrawing, only to be gathered up and cradled in strong arms as you drifted on the ebbing tide of aftershocks.

[sashi-ya]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ エロチックトバー２０２４> MDNI / EXPLICIT CONTENT

THE SUCCESSOR 🐙 SOSUKE AIZEN X F! READER ＫINKTOBER DAY 1: IMPREGNATION

🐙 requested by: @muzansfangs Hi, honey! Your event looks absolutely awesome! Here I am submitting a request because you are an amazing writer❤️ Day 1 + Aizen Sosuke + f!reader (impregnation). Take your time, love you!❤️ ⚠️ tw: mdni. explicit content. impregnation. mentions of pregnancy. reader "used" by Aizen to fulfill the need for a successor. 🐙 wc: 637 // kinktober 24 masterlist // join the taglist

With his hands around your waist, pressing you against him, he whispers in your ear how much he desires to make you the “bearer of his descendance”

Your back laying on his chest, your legs hanging down his legs; sitting on that sterile “throne”, the king assures a step further on his plans...

Oh, Sosuke Aizen, what do you see in that future of yours? Solitude? Defeat? Why do you need a successor?

Your nape, your hair, rest on Sosuke’s shoulder and neck. Up, his right hand slides; your neck it finds, crushing carotids and jugulars, making you dizzy… out of breath, perhaps even controlling you to go and come from the brink of death. Slap after slap, thighs hitting against your ass. Sweaty surfaces that go up and down, as he drills into you with desperate hips.

“Will you bear my child, dear (Name)?” he asks, coercing you to say yes… in any case, a blurred mind and an almost limp body is unable to say otherwise.

“Y-ye-yes, Aizen-sa-sama” you cry, as he presses your cheeks, so your lips become pouty, and your words come out in an adorably humiliating way.

A sophisticated, tinted in psychopathic, smirk escapes his lips. It makes you tremble, how can someone be so sexy, so soft and yet so scary at the same time? Guess the strongest don’t really need to be violent.. oh, but what definitely holds an almost unbearable violence, are those hip thrusts that wont stop pumping on you.

And your walls, as lustful, as desperate as those thrusts, spasm, milking that man that needs to shut his chocolate eyes closed… see, there is a reason why you were chosen to serve Aizen-sama.

“Aren’t you a little bit needy? Heh” he murmurs, biting ever so softly the lobe of your right ear. The humid words of his hot breath, feels like they are kissing your brain, pulling you down with tingles everywhere.

“Always for you, Aizen-sama” you purr, in heaven, with your inner thighs trembling and your toes a little curled. “I am yours to please, I am yours to be used…”

Sosuke growls; he definitely knows how his you are. But, even though, the moment he listens to those words, his body reacts uncontrollably… So far from the cold, calm, and collected Aizen you know, he bites your neck. His thrusts are even more violent than before, this time you can’t bounce properly as his delicate hands, yet strong and evil, grab you by your waist. He lifts you up, he doesn’t really need you moving… just be a hole for his insatiable hunger this time.

“Shsh, baby…” he murmurs, penetrating you so perfectly. The position, with you lifted and softly bent forward allows the tip of his sex to hardly push your sweet spot. Like an expert, knowing so very well, exactly where to press, he makes you retort with just the violent drill of unstoppable ramming.

It is nearly impossible for you not to come, viciously and aggressively, as suspended in between heaven and hell… well, isn’t it funny how the new king of Hueco Mundo is actually fucking your right now?

“Come on, cum so that I can fill you up very well…” he continues, enjoying the pleasure of your milking walls. “You know you shouldn’t waste a single drop, baby? Would you keep it inside for me? We need to make you very, very pregnant”

You shiver… exactly why, you don’t really know. Is it because of your orgasm taking over? Or is it because you are being entrusted with such a high order from Aizen-sama?

In any case… “Yes, Aizen-sama… make me, really, really pregnant…” “Very good, my beautiful ray of sun… come on, do it with a smile for me… but, please, make sure not to fail”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤAh, toxic motherfucker!

Taglist of amazing babes: @awas-posts @missfuriosa @theneighbourhoodferret @ariesbbytings @animesnowstorm @lenablack9919 💕🌻

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

A Surprise^**

Hello friends, thank you so much for your patience. I ended up having quite a disastrous day and it took longer to finish editing! But here is the one shot based off of this request. Hope you like it!

Warnings: TW! abusive partner: mentions of love-bombing, gaslighting/accusations of infidelity, verbal arguments, intimidation tactics (psychological and physical), physical altercation between M/F ( described, but more intimidating than violent or aimed to hurt), physical altercation between M/M (not described but the aftermath is mentioned, bloody nosy type of thing), mentions of law enforcement and law enforcement processes. Mentions of sex, unprotected sex, oral (M/F receiving), fingering, unplanned pregnancy, ultrasound procedure.

WC: 18.2K

You were nervous as you rode up in the elevator. You weren’t claustrophobic or anything, so the feeling of it closing in on you was one you had no idea how to deal with. You were trying to keep your breathing as calm as possible and clearing your head of any irrational or negative thoughts, but it was truly a challenge. It had been a nearly a year since you and Harry had been in any space together and it was nerve-racking. What was originally supposed to be a month or two-long break, turned into all this time and distance. He said he wanted to talk and get some closure, which you thought was bull shit, and that’s why you were so nervous.

Before “the break” you and Harry had been dating for four years. Things had been going really well up until he started getting antsy to work again. You’d moved to London for him and now that he was finally “off” you saw that he was jumping into the next thing he could. You understood that he felt like he needed to do something with his time but soon enough he was back in the studio for hours at a time while you just hung out at his house. You lasted a year like that before you told him that you couldn’t do it anymore. You felt lonely in your relationship with him and you saw that he wasn’t ready to slow down and settle a bit like he said he was before. That was the whole reason why you’d even moved to London for him. So when you suggested a little time apart to have him sort through his priorities he freaked out on you. But the following morning the tune was different, he was more open to this idea of taking some time apart.

You had assured him over and over again that you loved him but that you were ready for the next step and he clearly wasn’t. He then assured you that you were the love of his life and that he’d take a month or two to just tie up all the loose strings with his current project and then focus back on your relationship. You even went back home to LA to give him all the space he needed. You checked in with each other a lot but when the two months were up you reached out and didn’t get a response back until two weeks later. Much to your dismay it was just an “I’m sorry.” And with tears in your eyes you just deleted the entire messaging feed you had with him.

A few months later you were back on the dating scene. One of your co-workers set you up with her cousin, Steven. He came off as sweet, smart, and mature. He mostly had his shit together from what she’d said and you had seen, so you gave him a real chance. Yeah, he was no Harry, but no one would ever equate to Harry, so you stopped comparing and got to know him for who he was. Soon enough you’d started to develop more feelings for Steven, he showered you in attention and time and affection, it was almost too much, you thought. But then you recalled that things had been so cold with Harry towards the end that maybe you just weren’t used it anymore. It wasn’t love-bombing, it was just a man who is interested in showing you what you meant to him. After two months of seeing him casually you started talking about the future, about starting a real, committed relationship. You talked about properly meeting each other’s families and taking serious steps forward, you were gearing up to properly move on with someone who clearly prioritized you! And then Harry called. 

He was jealous, you heard it in his voice when he called, but the fact that he was jealous pleased you in a way. Honestly, you thought you’d be so well off that when you spoke to him you’d feel above him somehow, but when you heard his voice your heart ached with longing and your small victory suddenly made you feel a bit sadistic. He then asked to see you to get some closure and you quickly agreed because you needed it too. But that’s how you ended up at his hotel just an hour later. So far you were just standing there at his hotel door just taking each other in. Quite frankly, you were just pleased you had made it out of the elevator alive. But it felt like it’d been ages and no time at all at the same time, your heart was racing in the confines of your chest, making it hard to breathe once again. It made you so happy, but hurt your heart at the same time to see him. It was so confusing, feeling relief and joy and disappointment all at the same time. 

“You look great.” He complimented you after a few moments of staring.

“Oh! Thanks.” You smiled timidly, “H-how are you?”

“I’m alright. Come on in.” He said moving aside and you wandered in. You sat at the couch in his suite as he headed to the kitchenette.

“Can I offer you some water or tea?” He asked.

“No, I’m alright.” You assured and he nodded before coming over to sit near you on the couch. You sat in silence for a few moments again before he chuckled in slight disbelief and shook his head.

“I can’t believe you’re actually here.” He confessed with a shake of his head.

“Me either.” You chuckled a bit humorlessly. He had wronged you…the only thing that you knew about him right now was that he did not love you as much as he said he did. If he did he wouldn’t have left you hanging like he had. “I guess I just…needed to see you one more time. I don’t think that we left off on a good note so-”

“Exactly. That’s why I wanted to see you.” He said leaning forward and taking your hand and your facade of stoicism and ease melted away immediately. The hurt from his actions just came to the surface and made a pang of pain ripple from your chest all the way out to your fingertips, you swore even your scalp hurt as his eyes met yours apologetically.

“Harry, it’s almost been a year.” You pointed out and he frowned.

“I know, love.” He confirmed, “And I haven’t even tried t-to apologize since that text I sent you.” He said and your eyes started welling up. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just…I got scared that if I took that step forward with you it meant that my work was gone.” He explained and you scoffed.

“Harry, no! When I asked you to slow down that’s all I meant. Slow down, not stop! I’d never tell you to stop.” You sighed, exasperated and upset that he even thought that you’d ever make him stop doing what he loved most, “I just wanted you to slow down a little and enjoy your life for yourself. Spend time with your mom and your sister and your cousins and nieces and nephews!” You vented, “W-with me.” You added towards the end and he nodded in understanding. “What you do with your work matters to me. I see how happy it makes you. And I don’t think I’ve ever done anything to make you feel like you couldn’t be honest with me about your priorities.” You said and he shook his head.

“You didn’t. I should’ve talked to you about it all, Y/N. I know I fucked up, big time, but I love you and-”

“No you don’t…” you interrupted with a scoff as you pulled your hand away from his, “You’re just jealous because I’m ready to move on with someone else now.” You said to him and he glanced up at the ceiling and smiled sadly.

“Yeah, of course I’m fucking jealous!” he confessed through a pained, breathy laugh, “And I still love you and whether you believe it or not because of my previous actions, I respect you and you deserve an apology. That’s why I wanted to see you.” He explained as his eyes met yours again, “I know that I’ve lost you, Y/N.” He said sadly, “Believe me, I didn’t come to try and talk you out of that decision. I just wanted to tell you, in person, that I love you with my whole heart. I should’ve fought for you. You showed me so much love and gave me all of your care and support all the time! I shouldn’t have been scared t-to talk about it. I shouldn’t have let you go.” He explained, “I’m going to have to live with that for the rest of my life, Y/N. I know that.” He sniffled and you wiped your tears carefully. “I just needed you to know that it’s not anything you did. I love you, even still, I think I’ll die loving you.” He said.

“Jesus, Harry…” you inhaled sharply before standing up quickly. You grabbed your purse from the coffee table and started rushing back to the door.

“Baby! Baby, baby, baby-” he rushed in front of you blocking the door, “J-just wait.” He sniffled, he looked panicked.

“Why should I?” You questioned him, “Why now?” You asked for clarity and he swallowed thickly, “You had this whole fucking time and now that I’m just about t-to forget about you, y-you show up and…” you trailed off as your anger boiled over and your tears started to trickle down your face more heavily.

“Y/N, I’m sorry-” He started.

“Y-you better not be trying to manipulate me!” You warned, your voice raised in accusation and he shook his head.

“I know it might seem that way b-but I’m not, love. I’m not looking for anything from you, I know I don’t deserve it. I just needed t-to see you and apologize to you and tell you how I feel before you wouldn’t entertain the idea of me in your presence ever again. And I know you probably hate me so much right now-” He explained and you inhaled sharply with a disappointed shake of your head.

“That’s the stupidest fucking part of this whole thing! I-” you stopped and shook your head, “I felt so happy when I heard from you.” You confessed, “And I still have so much love for you.” You sniffled and felt sick to your stomach just admitting it. You felt like an idiot for it.

You had gone over a very similar scenario in your head if not millions of times before while daydreaming or lying in bed. You dreamed of him coming back and apologizing and you having the strength to not come crawling back to him after whatever excuse he gave. Except you’d gotten it wrong. Harry wasn’t standing before you asking you to come back to him with an underlying arrogance that came with knowing that your love was enough to have you come back to him. He was actually just coming to be accountable for his mistakes and to apologize to you for hurting you. He came with humility and sincere repentance for his errors, no ulterior motives. And well, you weren’t nearly as strong as you thought you’d be by now.

“Oh, baby…” he sighed, “I don’t deserve it.” He recognized, “And I know that you’re happy.”

“I am.” You sniffled.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel confused, I really didn’t want that. I really just wanted to make things as right as I could after all this time.”

“Thank you.” You responded and he gave you one firm nod. “I think I should go.” You said and he glanced into your eyes and just waited for a moment and when you didn’t waiver he exhaled and moved out of your way to let you leave.

You reached for the door and opened it up before stepping out into the hall, pulling it shut behind you as you cried quietly as you walked back to the elevator, what seemed like a trap before now felt like your much needed escape. You were just about to step inside when you glanced back down the hallway at his door, questioning if you’d been too harsh. After all, you did miss him and you still loved him…you’d definitely regret not giving him a hug goodbye or even just confirming to him that you forgave him. So with all the strength you had, you ignored that pull to return to him and got inside and left. It was time to move on.

****************

You’d been quiet and in your head all afternoon. Internalizing everything you were feeling was weird because you were never one to just let things brew in silence. You had to talk about it and your best friend was back in the UK and she had an important work thing in the morning so you couldn’t interrupt and you just wanted to talk to someone who would be 100% real with you. You decided to just distract yourself until stopped by for dinner, surely his company would provide an adequate distraction.

But even when Steven arrived you found yourself ruminating on how awkwardly you’d left Harry. You certainly got what you needed but you were out of there so fast that you had no idea if he got the closure he needed from you and now you felt bad! That’s what you were thinking about, but your silent and pensive demeanor had Steven feeling iced out which he did not like. So after sitting in your little living room on his phone for half an hour in complete silence as his football game droned on, on the TV he figured he’d just ask you.

“Babe, are you upset at me?” He finally asked as he came into the kitchen. You were just grating some carrots into the salad you were making for dinner.

“No.” You assured him with a small smile as you glanced up at him briefly.

“Well, you’ve been oddly quiet since I got here. More than half the time I’m wishing you’d just shut up for five minutes but I don’t know anymore…it’s weird.” He joked, trying to make light of the situation. But upon hearing that your brows pinched in confusion and offense at his “joke”.

“That’s quite rude and not funny at all. I heard you turn on the game and you don’t like it when I talk to you when you’r watching so I just stayed quiet.” You mumbled a bit spitefully before going back to grating and he came closer and placed a hand on your hip.

“Damn, you’re so sensitive, it was a joke.” He said mawkishly and your irritation continued blooming so you refused to look at him, “Y/N, you’re clearly in your head about something and now you’re taking it out on me.” He said and you sighed.

“I’m not taking anything out on you, Steven. I’m just thinking some stuff through.” You shared with him.

“Stuff like…?” He pressed.

“Like…my ex, Harry.” You said and he straightened up at the mention of Harry’s name.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He asked with a sardonic smile and you put down the carrot and glanced up at him.

“You asked.” You emphasized and he huffed out a sarcastic laugh, “I’m not done, so listen up because it’s good news for you.” You said and he clenched his jaw and nodded, “Well he’s in town and he asked to see me so we could talk,” You explained and Steven’s expression twisted into a disconcerting look, “so earlier I met up with him and we talked-”

“Wait.” He cut you off, “Why the hell would you think to go see your ex?” He asked you, fully offended over what you’d done this afternoon.

“I went to get closure! And well, considering we’ve been talking about starting a relationship in the near future it’s good for us that I just close that door for good.” You explained and he shook his head.

“And you didn’t think to tell me about this before you went there?”

“It happened so fast and I know you were meeting clients all day so I-”

“You should have at least asked if I was fine with you doing that!” He groaned with frustration and you frowned.

“Like…ask you for permission?” You asked and he shook his head.

“Don’t put words in my mouth, Y/N.” He snapped quickly.

“I’m not, I was asking for clarification. You said I should’ve asked if it was alright with you before going. Is that not asking for permission?” You asked and he sighed.

“Look, not permission but like…at least consider me! Like, have me be there so he doesn’t get any ideas.” He said and you looked at him like he was completely delusional.

“W-what?!” You asked in disbelief, “Why would I invite you into a conversation with me and my ex about our old relationship?” You questioned.

“Because, I need to make sure nothing weird is going on! And if you didn’t want me there, which you clearly didn’t, then you should’ve asked if I was cool with you going to meet him all alone! It makes me uncomfortable to think of you two alone.” He said and you were complete confused at his logic.

“And what if you said that no, I couldn’t go?” You asked.

“I would’ve said no and you would’ve not gone.” He rebutted confidently and you were in total shock, “You have no business talking to him again, Y/N.” He added and you sighed and shook your head in exasperation.

“I wanted answers and an apology, Steven. I am owed at least that! And he took responsibility. He was able to give that to me.” You said and he scoffed.

“You’re…you’re so fucking naive.” He said and you looked at him in confusion, “It’s a test. He was testing you! Testing you to see if you’re still loyal to him. Testing to see if he still has power over you! And guess what? By going there all alone the moment he called you up, you confirmed that for him. You confirmed that he still owns you!” He was speaking to you in the most belittling way. You felt your rage flaring up inside of you.

“What are you even saying?!” You scoffed in disbelief, “It was just a conversation! I was in and out of there in less than 10 minutes!” You laughed incredulously.

“10 minutes? Really? That alone fucked you up so much you couldn’t talk to me?” He asked with a sardonic look on his face and you rolled your eyes, “See now, I’m not so sure that something else didn’t happen between you two.” He soft-launched his accusation and you scoffed.

“Nothing happened! I’m telling you that he said what he needed to say and I just left!” You explained, “I’m just thinking on it because I don’t feel right about just having left like that.” You explained, “It was awkward, the way I handled it. I didn’t even ask him if he had any questions for me or anything else to say, I was selfish. I just got the apology I needed and that was that.” You said a bit sadly and his jaw clenched for a second before biting down on the inside of his cheek.

“You promise that was it?” He asked you after a few moments of silence.

“I promise! Literally we just talked.” You reiterated and he nodded.

“Fine. I’m sorry.” He said grumpily, like a child who is dying inside because they had to apologize. You imagined he was feeling a bit ashamed or even embarrassed for jumping to conclusions like that and being so off the mark. So you walked up to him and hugged him tight as you rested your head against his chest. You relaxed in his arms and smiled when you felt his hand grab your jaw and angle up your face. Your eyes met for a few tense seconds, you were preparing for him to ardently kiss you but suddenly his hand fell from your jaw and grabbed around your throat, right beneath your jaw. Your eyes widened in fear as his grip got a bit tighter by the second. His eyes were dark as he stared into yours.

“S-steven.” You gasped in concern as you started to run out of oxygen. You tried to wiggle out of his grip, eyes watery and full of fear as your nails dug into his wrist hoping to startle him out of whatever possessed him to do this.

“I don’t want you talking to or seeing him again. Never again. Do you understand me?” He demanded and you felt your entire body just turn cold. You had no idea how to even react to this change in Steven’s demeanor so you just nodded. “You’re going to be mine soon and I need to know that I can trust you fully.” He said “I want to trust you. But can I? Can I trust you to stay away from him?” he asked and you nodded again, you’d do anything to get out of this situation, “Then say it. Swear to me.” He insisted darkly as he loosened his grip around you.

“I-I’ll never talk to him or see him again.” You whispered, “I swear.” You insisted with tearful eyes and he let you go before walking out of the kitchen silently. 

You grabbed onto the counter because your legs unexpectedly lost their strength. You were panting, struggling so hard to breathe as this entire interaction processed in your brain. You suddenly felt extremely nauseated as a wave of fear overcame you. You trembled wordlessly for a bit, feeling so devastatingly mortal. You’d never had such little power. You’d never felt so small. After a short, uncomfortable, and contemplative moment you grabbed the carrot you had been working on and got back to grating. You just had to take deep breaths and grate.

You were walking on egg shells for the remainder of the night, doing anything and everything to act as normal as possible and not bait him into another aggression. Meanwhile, he was genuinely chatting with you so casually, as if he hadn’t just grabbed you by the throat like that. It terrified you that he wasn’t acting, he was genuinely fine. You were questioning yourself now, wondering if there were signs you missed? Granted, you were now getting into more serious turf, but there was nothing that you’d seen before that indicated towards him ever behaving this way. Even as you lay in bed attempting to get some rest you just stared at your ceiling thinking about that moment. How dark his eyes looked…did you need to tell someone? It’s not like he’d actually hurt you…or threatened you…he just made you promise to stay away from Harry. There wasn’t even a mark on you. Who would believe you or what could you even do about it?

He sweetened up intensely after that though and it had your mind reeling. Even when you’d had sex earlier he had been so possessive. Normally, any type of sensual talk got you going but when he told you he was “going to make you his” as he finished it didn’t have the usual or intended effect, it made you feel uneasy and made you regret having slept with him after what had happened earlier on. You immediately hopped into the shower because you just needed to wash off the memory of him of on you. You held in your tears because you thought he would join you but he just called out a goodbye after some minutes. But even in your solitude you were practically frozen and emotionless. You’d never experienced him like that and it worried you, so you decided to talk to your friend about it.

*****************

You were nervous to talk to Marie about this because she was also his cousin, but you just needed to know if there was a history to Steven that you didn’t know yet. Maybe he’d done something like this before, just got aggressive and overly possessive with another partner? Or perhaps he’d been cheated on and severely overreacted because of his past hurt? But Marie’s sort of distant demeanor should’ve tipped you off that things were not going to be good with this conversation.

“Thanks for meeting me. I actually wanted t-to talk to you about something important.” You said as soon as the waiter left after bringing your drinks. “Something that happened w-with Steven.” You said and she pulled away from her straw.

“Look, you don’t need to tell me what happened, Y/N.” She interjected, “Steven already told me.” She said flatly and for a second her anger seemed just. You were glad she was angry at him for you. “And look I love you and you’re my friend, but quite frankly, I can’t believe you’d go and hook up with Harry after how good Steven has been to you.” She said and your jaw dropped in shock.

“W-wait what?” You asked incredulously.

“Don’t do that with me, Y/N. I know how weak you are for Harry.” She said and you shook your head, “I mean…I did warn Steven early on t-to be careful and take his time with you because you’d probably cave and run back to Harry.” She said and you frowned, “But after all this time? I mean Jesus, Y/N! The man pretended like you didn’t exist for almost a year! How little self respect do you have t-to allow him back in after everything?!” She questioned you with disappointment and a harsh judgement.

“Is that really what you think of me?” You asked her and she sighed.

“Look, I’m sorry for being so harsh but I love you and I’m angry at you for cheating on my cousin. He’s a good guy!” She defended her stance and you shook your head.

“I didn’t cheat on your cousin. We’re not even in an official or exclusive relationship so even if I had fooled around with Harry he has nothing to be upset over! He’s the one who hasn’t wanted to be exclusive yet!” You corrected and Marie smiled incredulously down at her drink, “You don’t have to believe me about Harry if you don’t want but believe this, Steven? He’s not a good guy.” You said and she looked up at you again fully offended.

“Y/N, look-”

“No, listen to me. I just need you t-to hear me out. Last night he…h-he grabbed me really hard by the throat and made me swear I would never talk to or see Harry again. He terrified me.” You confessed and her eyes didn’t even soften up, “I came t-to ask if maybe I’d struck a nerve by mistake, looking to justify how he behaved towards me but the fact that he got to you first and lied about what happened…that just confirmed to me that I want nothing to do with him. He’s a ticking time bomb and I refuse to be collateral damage.” You said as you stood from your seat.

“How dare you.” She said and stood as well and you shook your head. “You can’t just go around throwing accusations about someone like that! Especially about this sort of thing! It could ruin him, Y/N!” She said with a quiet and calculated rage.

“Believe what you want, but I want nothing to do with either of you ever again.” You said to her and walked off. When you sat in your car you were trembling with rage, you could not believe the last 24 hours of your life. You were just collecting yourself before taking off, you didn’t want to get on the road with that much anger flowing through your veins. You jumped in surprise when your phone started ringing loudly from your purse and you groaned and reached for it and when you saw Harry’s name on the screen you just felt a wave of comfort and then it turned into fear. You knew Steven wasn’t here but you couldn’t help but glance around your immediate surroundings before answering the call.

“Hello?” You spoke into the receiver tentatively.

“Y/N, I ummm, I need you to come down to my hotel right away if you can.” He said to you and you felt your stomach drop.

“W-why?” You asked him nervously.

“Your boyfriend broke into my suite and tried to attack me.” He said and you gasped. “Are you alright?” You asked instantly.

“Yeah, thankfully. But now h-he’s telling the officers that you put him up to this.” He said lowly, “Just come and we’ll sort this out.” He assured.

“Okay, I’ll be there soon.” You said and took off despite your heightened emotions.

Just before you arrived to Harry’s suite you saw a pair of officers guide Steven away down the hall in hand cuffs. He had a bandage over his nose and a busted lip. He barely held eye contact with you as they pulled him along. You rushed down the hall and hurried into the open suite more than relieved to see a paramedic only icing Harry’s hand while he talked to one of the officers looming over him.

“Oh my god, I’m glad you’re okay!” You exclaimed in relief and he stood right away and hugged you tight as you leaned into him and that’s when all of your emotions from even the night before caught up with you and you started to cry. 

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s alright. I’m alright.” He assured you lowly.

“Yeah, but sometimes you minimize things to not worry anyone so…” you reminded and he chuckled a little as you pulled back, “I’m so sorry about this, H. Sincerely. Genuinely! I-I can’t believe he went as far as pulling something like this.” You expressed, still quite flabbergasted at what had gone down. Harry rubbed over your back in comforting circles.

“It’s alright. I’m alright.” He assured you, “He’s worse off than I am.” He smirked a bit as he delivered this news.

“Oh, I saw.” You chuckled through your tears and he hummed. “You’re not gonna get into any trouble, are you?” You asked.

“No, love.” He assured you, “I acted in self-defense so we’re all clear there. He did give me a good scare though.” He said more seriously and you sighed. 

“This never should have happened…I just don’t get it where this came from? I swear, this is not at all like him! I’ve never seen him behave this way in the couple months we’ve been seeing each other. Even last night was just so out of character for how he’s always been towards me! And I’m not trying to make excuses for him. Clearly this is fucked-”

“Wait. What happened last night?” Harry asked you more seriously and you sighed and shook your head.

“Nothing, really.” You said to him and he gave you a look, not a scary one, just an insistent one. You sighed and shrugged, “Last night when I…when I told him we met up to talk and get closure he got really angry at me. Like, he was livid. It was truly an overreaction to me mentioning that I was really happy over having received that apology from you but that I felt like I had been awkward about it and left it weird with us.” You explained, “Then, he asked why I didn’t ask for permission t-to talk to you or see you or why I didn’t ask him to come with me? And I explained that I agreed to meet with you so that we could clear the air so that I could move on with him in peace and he accused me of fooling around with you.” You explained monotonously as you felt like you were there all over again, “I assured him we just talked and he then pretended like it was fine and apologized half-heartedly… and I went in to hug him but then it’s like a switch flipped.” You recounted what had happened, “I thought he was going t-to kiss me but he…” your voice faded out into an exhale, “H-he grabbed me so hard by the throat and made me swear that I wouldn’t see o-or talk to you ever again-”

“Miss?” One of the officers interrupted and you turned towards the officer as Harry released you just a bit. 

“Yes?” You asked softly.

“Can you elaborate more on this altercation?” He asked and you swallowed thickly.

“I don’t want to get anyone in trouble.” You said softly, eyes now laser focused on Harry’s dangling pendant as your vision started to blur with more building tears. You were scared more than worried about getting Steven into any more trouble and Harry could see that. “Love, look at me.” Harry insisted and you blinked rapidly as one of your tears trickled down your cheek before you looked up at him, “If he did anything to scare you, you need to report it.” He said, “He’s fucked as it is for this, he can’t do anything to you ever again. He won’t.” Harry assured you and you nodded.

You proceeded to explain what had happened and how he had grabbed you. You explained that you felt intimidated and frozen and unsure of what to do next after the altercation. You were asked why you didn’t call the police or make a report and you explained that you didn’t think there was anything to report. He hadn’t technically hit you or injured you. You had no visible marks on you or anything to prove this apart from the fear you’d been harboring ever since. But the officer informed you that even a forceful grab is considered assault in the sate of California. And that speaking to you that way, exerting any tactics to make you feel subdued or intimidated were also considered acts of aggression and intimidation that were reportable offenses. And after a few more questions and you assuring them that he had never done anything like this to you before they moved back to the situation with Harry. With police reports filed they went on their way and you offered to get Harry a new place to spend the rest of his trip.

**************

It was just a few hours later and you were sitting in your living room waiting for Harry to come out of the shower and for his lawyer to arrive. You felt awful for this whole thing with Steven, you really had no idea he was a psycho like this. Marie had actually tried calling you almost 20 times and had sent you about 15 texts asking you to call back and that she was sorry for not believing you earlier. You were still too angry at her to respond so you put your phone on “Do Not Disturb” and just focused on the TV and wondered if it was a good idea to have brought Harry to your home. You had found another place for him to stay but before you booked it he asked if it would be alright to use your guest room because he was concerned for your safety since Steven knew where you lived. 

His concerns were valid. And you knew that Steven was well connected and had several lawyer friends who you were sure could get him out on bail by the morning, so you agreed to let him stay. You just didn’t want to also put Harry in harm’s way again. You would never forgive yourself if Steven did anything to hurt him. All in all, none of this felt real, you felt like you were in an unhinged daytime soap episode just waiting for another tragedy to befall you and those in your life. You were so on edge that you flinched in fright when the doorbell rang. Once the shiver passed through your body you hurried over to see through the peephole and saw Harry’s lawyer waiting there.

“Hi Darius.” You greeted him with a smile and he smiled back upon seeing you as well. It’d been quite a while.

“Y/N! Wow!” He chuckled, “It’s so great to see you!” He greeted you happily as you led him inside.

“Likewise! I think Harry’s just finishing up his shower, he had quite the day.” You said as you locked up behind him and he sighed.

“Yeah. I’m so sorry to hear about that. But I’m glad he’s safe and that you’re also safe.” He assured you and you thanked him before guiding him over to the kitchen and allowing him to get set up while you went to grab the Coca-cola he’d requested. 

It was just a couple of minutes before Harry joined you two and caught up a bit with Darius before he got into the story of what happened. Harry was going to follow through on pressing charges and he was even more motivated to get it all done ASAP when he heard what Steven had done to you the night before. He wanted to give Darius his statement as well while it was fresh in his memory so that it matched up perfectly to what he’d told the police and so he started answering the questions while Darius recorded and took notes as well. But hearing it in detail for yourself made it all the more sinister for you. You weren’t even thinking about it all that deeply when you reached for Harry’s hand under the table and he paused and briefly looked at you.

“Sorry.” You mouthed and started to pull it away from him but he instead tangled your fingers together and kept talking.

You stayed at his side for the rest of the time until Darius left, assuring you both that he’d let you know as soon as any headway was made in this case. With a final farewell you were locking up behind him as Harry waited for you just a small distance away. You sighed and turned to him.

“I’m so, so sorry about this, Harry. If I had know that he would do something like this… I mean, I just shouldn’t have said anything to him about you or-”

“Hey, it’s not your fault. How were you supposed to know, love?” He asked as he grabbed your face gently, right under your jaw and you swallowed thickly and he quickly slid his hands down to your shoulders. “Shit, I’m sorry. I forgot.” He said and you shook your head.

“It’s alright. It’s still fresh.” You reminded and he sighed and shook his head.

“I’m sorry…if I had just come back to you when I was supposed to we wouldn’t be in this mess.” He said and you sighed.

“You weren’t happy though, I mean…you preferred to be alone all this time instead of back with me so…it was the right thing for you at the time.” You said to him.

“You forgive me though, right? For not…” he trailed off and you nodded.

“Yeah, H.” You assured him and he pecked your lips quickly.

“Thank you.” He said quietly.

“Of course.” You whispered back. Your lips still tingling from his quick kiss. 

“Sorry, I just needed to kiss you.” He said and you smiled slightly.

“I get it.” You assured him. “D-do you want to…sleep with me?” You asked with a little bit of hesitation.

“Yeah, love.” He said without a hint of a doubt, “Of course. I’m a bit shaken up myself.” He said and you nodded.

“C’mon then.” You said and grabbed his hand and guided him to your bedroom. You guys washed up and then cuddled into your bed. 

You faced each other silently, just looking at each other, taking each other in. You were telling each other you had missed each other with your shared, longing gaze, but you refused to touch. You both loved the static and electric feeling buzzing between your bodies far too much. It was masochism in its purest form. It hurt to be apart, you missed his vibe. His energy. His presence…Harry was a warm, little ball of light, even on his dark days. He was the kindest, most thoughtful person you’d been is fortunate to encounter. He was so hard on himself also, and you knew he was angry at himself right now. You didn’t want him to be though, you wanted him to be here with you and enjoying this reunion, however unfortunate the situation was that led to it. 

The amount of love you felt for him was impossible. As you laid in silence you smiled because you had truly missed the sound of his breathing. You inhaled his exhales, feeling more than grateful to be within his reach. You wanted to feel him on you, skin to skin. You shivered as you felt this intense love just surge through you.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.” You said softly and sincerely. His eyes glanced down, averting from your gaze as he smiled in disbelief. “I mean it.” 

“Even after all this time?” He asked, “After everything I’ve done?”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t hurt by you.” You smiled and he chuckled, “But yeah, I still love you despite those things.”

“Enough to give me another chance?” He asked.

“I…I mean, yeah.” You chuckled nervously. “And I don’t know i-if I’m a complete fool for that?! But I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, baby. More so lately…” he said and you hummed.

“Why’s that?” You asked.

“Umm…I was cleaning out your side of things. Like to send ‘em back to you and I just…I found this little box in the corner on your side of the closet-”

“The memory box!” You exclaimed, remembering its existence.

“Yeah…I just got to see all of the wonderful things we’ve shared together. How you’ve been there for absolutely everything. You’ve never let me down.” He said softly, “And I just…felt like a total fool for dismissing that. Nothing feels the same without you, you’re the thing that just…tied everything together, you know? You made my heart feel…whole.” He explained, “When I say that I miss you that’s what I mean. I’ve been incomplete without you around, Y/N. I’ve been missing you from everything. I’m so sorry that I waited until I almost lost you to reach out to you…” he whispered with shame. You frowned and reached for his cheek

“Everything happens for a reason, honey.” You whispered, “I mean, I’m glad you came along at this time because you saved me from a potentially dangerous situation.” You said more solemnly.

“I’m glad I was here for this. May-maybe this is a…sign of sorts for you to come back home with me.” He said a bit carefully. 

Harry was nervous to bring this up to you but he really just didn’t want you staying anywhere near this man. He wanted to be certain that he could keep you safe, that he could protect you and ensure that you were never so easily in harm’s way again.  And on top of that, his love for you continued simmering lowly in the background, it had never gone out. He just fled out of fear and he regretted it so much. He had been selfish and didn’t realize it until far too late. It filled him with gratitude that you’d even hear him out for an apology, let alone give him another chance. A chance that he may have blown with this suggestion he’d just put out there.

“Ummm…I…I’m not sure w-what to say to that.” You responded honestly, “Like, my first instinct is to say yes.” You chuckled nervously and while he was relieved to hear that, he held off his excitement to hear what would come next, “But like you’ve acknowledged a couple times already, we’ve been apart for a while and I think we both hurt each other to some extent and I worry that…in jumping right back into where we left things off that we’ll forget about all of the issues that led to us breaking down instead of working through them.” You said and he hummed.

“Yeah, that’s extremely valid.” He responded, “And I guess I want this right now mainly because I don’t want you here all alone.” He explained, “I realize we have things to work through before we can get to where we were before all this. And I’m so willing to put in the work with you to get to that stage again. But right now I just want to ensure that you’re safe and far away from that prick, Steven. That’s my main concern as of now, baby.”

“Well thank you for worrying about me. I would love to leave with you but I don’t think it’d be a smart move.” You sighed.

“Even just for a few weeks until things cool off a bit? I can set you up somewhere else even.” He said and you bit your lip pensively.

“I’ll think about it.” You responded.

“Okay, that’s…that’s enough for me.” He whispered back.

***********************

It  was a couple weeks later when Steven finally showed up at your place. Obviously you had the locks changed, so his key didn’t work, which really angered him. And when you heard him shouting at you and pounding on the door, threatening to break in if you didn’t allow him in, you immediately called the cops as you had a restraining order filed against him. You also recorded everything this time as you tried to calmly coax him into leaving before they showed up. He was angry that Harry was pressing charges against him and he wanted you to talk him out of it. You knew better than to say anything about Harry’s case, so instead you asked Steven how he even got access to Harry’s location. Up until this point it was all speculation, you just assumed he grabbed the information off of your phone, that really was the only way. But there was no proof yet that this was a premeditated aggression on Steven’s end. So when he confessed to you that he searched for the information on your phone you were relieved and would submit that as further evidence to get a more strict order against him.

He refused to leave and the longer you didn’t let him in the angrier he got and even broke a window. Thankfully, the police were just arriving when this happened and they submitted an Emergency Protective Order, this was far more strict than the restraining order but that was really all they could do. You really didn’t feel safe anymore so the next morning you contacted your landlord and explained to her what had happened and let her know that you’d have to terminate your lease early for your safety. She was kind and didn’t make you pay the extra fee or even make you finish out a whole month, she just hoped you’d fine somewhere else soon. 

You contacted Harry and of course, he said you could stay with him for a little bit. You felt stupid for not just doing that to begin with like he had suggested. But the reality was that he had also hurt you and let you down and you were worried about what moving in together again so soon would do to impact your future. But for the time being this felt like the safest choice. Steven knew your friends and co-workers in the area thanks to Marie, so there was no one you could go to in LA that you felt he wouldn’t think of. It pained you to quit your job and pack up your life and go, but you needed to. Of course, Harry welcomed you with open arms and you were grateful to know that you were a whole continent and ocean away from LA right now. 

*****************

It had been three weeks of you living with Harry and things had been going well so far. You felt drained though, like completely fatigued from everything, you often felt this way when you were anxious or depressed so you prioritized reconnecting with your therapist from before right away. You were seeing her every week so far and were eager to see and feel the results of doing this deep and healing work after what had happened to you and Harry in LA. You also reconnected with a few friends and they were helping you network a bit to find a job. Harry assured you that he was more than capable to take care of you but you didn’t feel comfortable with that, especially since your romantic future together was still a bit up in the air.

You two were doing well, you were reconnecting as friends more than anything right now. Living with him was comfortable though, you had lived together before though, so you knew how to exist in the same space together. You soon noticed that just being in a situation that was familiar to you both was making you both more affectionate towards each other though, which you both had been working hard to keep at bay. Of course, the feelings were there, but having those little things that reminded you, you weren’t alone made you smile, like now…

“Baby, I’m home! Are you here?” Harry called as he came into the house.

“Yeah, I’m in the laundry room!” You called back over the rumble of the washing machine as you folded your laundry. Moments later he was coming into the small, warm room with a smile on his face.

“Hi, love! How was it today?” He asked as he came up to you and hugged you.

“It was good. I met with Poppy and her friend, Sheila, she’s the one who just started up her own tanner line or something and needs an accountant? She’s interested, so I’m meeting with her and her partner again her next week when she’s back from her vacation to see about the position.” You shared.

“That’s really good. Hopefully it pans out.”

“I hope so too.” You said as you dropped the t-shirt you were working on in the basket with folded laundry so that you could interlace your fingers as you clung to him.

“And like I said before though, no rush, okay? You’re doing plenty to help out here. And after everything else you’ve been through, taking it slow can’t hurt.” He added.

“Thank you. I really do appreciate that, H.” You smiled.

“Of course, love.” He hummed. You pulled back slowly and looked into each other’s eyes. “I’m really happy you’re here.” He reassured you.

“Thank you, baby.” You whispered.

“Baby?” He asked with a grin and you rolled your eyes and sighed.

“Well, I mean…you call me that, so…”

“It feels right, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.” You agreed with a smile.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” You whispered with a smile. He tucked your hair behind your ear and kissed your cheek.

“Can I kiss your for real?” He asked you quietly and you just nodded. Moments later your lips met in a tentative kiss. There was a little bit of hesitation at first but seconds later you were kissing with more depth. Your hands held his as he cupped your face tenderly as you continued to kiss. You’d kissed very quickly a handful of times since your arrival but nothing like this where you could feel yourself getting all hot and bothered by it.

“Baby…” you mumbled into the kiss.

“Right…sorry.” He hummed and let you go breaking the kiss abruptly and you chuckled as you blindly reached down your leg and finally grabbed the dryer sheet that was half hanging out of the dryer and tickling your leg. You crumbled it up and tossed it in the garbage bin just a few feel away from you before turning back and looking up to him.

“You can continue now.” You said with a small smile and he grinned before picking you up and setting you on the dryer as your mouths met with more urgency. Your kiss and need started to grow and grow and boil over very quickly.

It really wasn’t planned when he carried you to his room and got you undressed. Even though you’d yet to resolve everything from before, you didn’t feel worried or wrong about this. You felt comfortable and beautiful as you felt his bare skin against your own. You were eagerly awaiting it as he kissed down your body and made you feel so good along the way. He wasted no time in getting down and going down on you, showing you just how much he had missed you. He savored you and gave you his best until you were starting to lose your grip on reality.

“Oh fuck, I missed you…” you giggled through a moan as his tongue did it’s wonderful work between your legs. You were tingling all over as he flicked over your clit until you were trembling and then he started to suck, “Oh my god!” You gasped as your eyes started to roll back. “I’m getting so close!” You warned. 

Your lips parted and you started to pant when he started to work two fingers into you. Your breath hitched when he curved them up into your g-spot. You felt your body melt into the bed for a second before he started to fuck into you harden until you were so tense your legs trembled as you started to come. The soft moans flowing from your lips were egging Harry on, making him even more hungry for you. You pulled him back up to you and your lips met eagerly as you reached for the button of his jeans.

“Want ‘em off?” He asked and you nodded, “Sure, baby?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, baby. I want you. I need you.” You whispered and he smiled before kissing your lips quickly before pulling back a bit.

“I just…I need you to know that if we do this I want us t-to be the thing that means we’re going to try again.” He said and your gaze softened, “Obviously, I’ve missed your body and having you like this, but this is more than that to me. I want it to  be more than that.” He said and you nodded.

“I do too, baby. I want to try again. I really do.” You said to him with welled up eyes and he smiled and kissed you slowly again.

“You are everything to me.” He mumbled as you helped get his pants off blindly as he tugged the material down, “I’m never going to forget that again. I swear it, baby. You make me so fucking happy.” He panted as he toed off the pants before he climbed over you and pulled you up with him towards the the top of the bed. You climbed over his lap and kissed his passionately. Harry’s hands roamed your naked body with expertise. He knew the spots to touch and to pay mind to as you guys worked up to the love-making bit. You too appreciated his body. You touched and kissed over his body and took his length into your mouth, working him up just a bit more before you two had sex. 

“Shit, baby…fuck that’s so good!” He groaned as you sunk down on him until you gagged around his tip. You weren’t as used to his size as you once were. 

“Careful, baby. Go easy.” He reminded as he stroked over your cheek lovingly before running his thumb along your stretched out bottom lip. He loved seeing how you fit him in your hot little mouth. It had his abs clenching hard as you rolled and fondled his heavy balls in your hands until he was fighting the urge to start thrusting in your mouth. “Baby, please…please, I need you.” He panted and you popped off of him and glanced up at him.

“Can I get on?” You asked and he swallowed thickly.

“A-are you sure you want this?” He asked and you nodded.

“I do, H. I want this with you. I want everything with you. Everything that we had, I want it all back. I love you more than anything in the wor-” he cut you off with his kiss and laid you down. You were dying of impatience as hi heavy erection glided against your slicked up and swollen folds, you were so ready to have him back.

“I love you. I love you so much.” He whispered as he lined up to your entrance.

“I love you too. Please just…I need you.” You begged and so he pushed forward until he was sinking deep in your hot, wet little hole until he bottomed out. 

You hissed as you adjusted back to his size, he was great about it, so patient and eager to get you going by rubbing over your clit until you were so wet you were sliding up and down his shaft. He watched you hungrily as you lifted your hips up and down to feel him moving inside of you. But it got to the point where he needed to take over and just get you both to come. His thrusts were deep and slow, he was bottoming out with each one, it was making your brain blank each and every time he sunk into the deepest part of you. Your body was tingling and your walls fluttering and pulsing around him with every movement. Everything felt so good with him. He was looking down at you with so much adoration it was making you even more emotional.

“Baby, baby don’t cry.” He chuckled as he kissed your forehead as a few tears streamed down your cheek.

“It just feels so…good.” You sniffled and he kissed you quickly, “It feels so good to be with you.” You hummed as you rolled your hips up against his and he moaned lowly and kissed you again.

“Yeah? Are you gonna come for me?” He asked and you nodded. “Good girl, let me know when you’re getting close.”

“I will.” You whined out as he delved deep and ground against you until your eyes squeezed shut, “Shit!” You gasped as he started thrusting a bit faster into that spot until you just felt yourself leaking around.

“Fuck…” he laughed, “Fuck, you’re so wet f’me, I-I’m getting close.” He panted and you whined and started to rub your clit to catch up to him.

In a few moments you were right there on the edge with him. Your back was arching as you moaned his name as your orgasm nearly took you out. Your ears were ringing and your vision was blurring as you started to come around him. He started to thrust faster to get off, but he was drawing out your orgasm until you were trembling.

“Fuck…fuck, I’m coming!” He warned as he started to press himself up to pull out. “Oh fuuuuck…” he moaned as he started to stroke himself as he came all over your mound. He thrusted his sensitive cock through your folds, making a little mess of you before kissing you ardently. “I love you. Love you so fucking much.” He whispered, his voice cracked as he started to cry and you pulled him into your chest and held him tight as you both just let your raw emotions out in this moment. 

You both needed it desperately. After he settled down he hurried to get something to clean you off and then you started to talk about you two. What you wanted, what you hoped to see in the future. You’d had these conversations before but even now the things that Harry was saying to you were complete different than before. Losing you seemed to be the thing that woke him up to how much he’d been taking you for granted. He’d gotten used to it, he’d gotten complacent at your expense.

“It’s going to be so different this time.” He said softly as he looked deep in your eyes, “I will be different this time.” He assured and you sighed.

“I believe you…there’s just a little part of me that is still not ready to let you back in.” You explained after he had explained how he was going to show up for you from now on, “I want to just trust you fully, but I’m afraid that you’ll make a fool of me again. That you’ll hurt me again.” You explained, “And I know y-you won’t but I just need to let you know that I’m still learning to trust you fully again.” You explained. “So please just…be a little patient with me.” You requested and he smiled.

“I know, baby. I will be patient with you and I will do everything I can to prove to you that I will never do anything to make you doubt choosing me again.” He said and kissed you slowly. You smiled into the kiss and let him pull you closer to him again and that’s how you fell asleep, nestled close together.

….. ONE MONTH LATER ….

In this short amount of time things had drastically shifted between you and Harry. You’d started to go on a date a week, doing thoughtful things for each other, sharing your feelings as they arose, communicated openly…he’d matured a lot in your time apart and helped you overcome your fears faster than you anticipated. You were so proud of him and it was spilling over into every moment. Like now, you were filled with a surge of love as you wandered into the kitchen to see him pulling out your favorite salad dressing from the fridge.

“Hiya, baby. What’re you up to?” You asked.

“Just making us your favorite salad for a light lunch.” He said.

“Wow, lunch already?” you asked and he smiled as you went over to him and hugged him from the back as you peeked over to his hands, eager to direct him on how much dressing he needed to add.

“Yeah, love!” He chuckled, “We had breakfast at 8! It’s already past 2pm.” He informed you and that surprised you. But you’d been so sucked into your work that it was very possible that you forgot to even feel hungry.

“Oh, I didn’t realize.” You explained and he frowned a bit.

“Baby, have you been feeling alright? It’s not just today, I’ve noticed that you haven’t had much of an appetite at all lately.” He pointed out and you frowned as you gave it some thought and realized that yeah, this was something you’d been feeling for at least two weeks. Maybe it was intense PMS? You hadn’t gotten your period since moving here, so you hoped it was just your body finally catching up with itself.

“You’re right…I mean, I have very visceral reactions to stress and big changes…I mean, my whole body and system have just been out of whack for a little but they’ll balance out again.” You assured him and he hummed.

“That’s true, it’s been hectic for you.” He said as he opened up the dressing bottle, “Honestly, I was thinking that-” he stopped as you gagged as the scent of the dressing wafting up towards you. You had to let him go and go hunch yourself over the sink as you felt the scent of the dressing just linger in your nose and mouth. “Baby…?” Harry came over and rubbed your back slowly, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah…” you grimaced, “But I think the dressing is bad. Didn’t you smell that? It was rank!” You turned to him with a disgusted look on your face and he frowned.

“I didn’t smell anything. You look a bit awful now though. You’re all pale.” He said feeling your forehead and you exhaled slowly to ward off the nausea that you suddenly felt making your head spin.

“I might throw up, the dressing smells so bad.” You explained and he frowned and turned to the counter and brought it up to his nose and it smelled just fine to him. He even checked the bottle for the usage date and it was still good. 

“This is fine…should I mix your salad with something else then?” He asked and you shook your head.

“I think I’m fine. I’ll just have some toast.” You said and he nodded. Eventually, you had to go back to your “office” and leave him hanging for lunch because you could not handle the look and scent of the salad, especially that dressing. By the time dinner rolled around you were still feeling a little off so you just had some veggies in a chicken broth and that was that.

*******************

You’d truly forgotten about your sensitive sense of smell until once again, you were assailed by an unbearable scent. Except this time it had happened at your friend, Poppy’s house. And this time you did actually get sick.

“God, I’m so sorry, P.” You apologized as you returned to her kitchen with embarrassment, “I swear its not your cooking, my nose has just been so sensitive lately and I get to grossed out by certain scents. I’m not sure what exactly yet though.” You explained to her.

“God, you sound like my sister when she got pregnant.” Poppy chuckled and you froze. That hadn’t even crossed your mind. Yeah, you’d missed your period for the last two months but literally everything impacted your period, your cycle was fickle, especially when you were under as much stress as you’d been. You weren’t surprised that it hadn’t come at all. Truly, this wasn’t new to you, especially when you were stressed out, regardless of whether or not you were on the pill (which you weren’t after moving back here, you’d run out the week before you came out). Then, you recalled that when you and Harry had sex the first time he hadn’t used a condom. Yeah, he’d pulled out but that was never a guarantee.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Poppy asked you with concern.

“I think I should probably take a test just to rule that out. I mean, it’s…very unlikely but I was a bit irresponsible a bit ago and just need some peace of mind.” You said.

“Okay, I have some in my bathroom, let me get you one.” She offered and you nodded so she hurried off to get it for you.

You were sure you were good, but you just needed to see it for yourself. There was absolutely no way you could be pregnant, you weren’t ready for that. Harry wasn’t ready for that. Like emotionally you guys were, but you had just rekindled your relationship, the last thing you needed was something this crazy to throw a wrench in things so quickly after you’d gotten back together.

“Alright, here you are, babe.” She said handing over the box as she came up to you again.

“Thanks.” You smiled nervously.

“W-would you mind if I did it here?” You asked her and she smiled and shook her head.

“Of course not.” She assured you and with that you were off to the bathroom again, sitting there, willing yourself to pee enough to saturate the stick and finally it came and you put the cap back on it and washed your hands before coming out. “I hate to be that person but what if you are pregnant?” She asked and you sighed.

“I have no idea…” you confessed through a nervous chuckle while you stared at the wall blankly, “I mean, H and I just…God, we’re just getting back into the groove of things. Throwing a baby into the mix at this time isn’t going to make anything easier. It’s just not what we need right now.” You explained to her.

“Yeah, I get that.” She chuckled, “Cam and I try and then we stop because of the same thing and like…ugh, it’s just a vicious cycle! And genuinely, if you have that many doubts it’s just that you’re not prepared for it, you know? That’s what I had to tell Cam after a few months.” She explained and you nodded in understanding. “I-if you are…what do you think Harry’d say?” She asked and you sighed.

“I have no fucking clue…” you admitted, “Obviously, before, we had said we wanted to have a family together. But again, that was before everything went to shit with us.” You sighed, “And like, we’re in such a good place right now…” you sighed, “Like I know he wouldn’t be a prick about it but we’re not quite ready for that yet.” You chuckled nervously and Poppy nodded in understanding.

“Well, don’t worry, you’ll see in a few minutes that everything is fine.” She smiled with encouragement. 

You decided to believe her that everything was going to be fine. You were already booked for a full body, deep tissue massage next week with Poppy when your timer went off. You turned off the timer and then brought the test up closer and your heart stopped beating and you stopped breathing for what felt like an eternity. Staring right back at you, clear as day, were two little pink lines.

“Th-that means I’m…right?” You asked showing Poppy and she bit her lip nervously and nodded.

“Are you okay?” She asked you with concern and you just exhaled slowly. You were completely taken by surprise. Then you started to get worried.

“I ummm…I think I need to get home.” You said to her, still in shock. You swallowed thickly as you tried to imagine how Harry would react to the news that he would be a father.

“Do you want me to drive you over?” She offered, since you had walked from Harry’s to hers. It was just a 20 minute walk, you guys lived quite close.

“No, no, P, it’s alright. I think walking will be good for me, I need to…I need…” you trailed off as your eyes started to well up with tears as you started to imagine the worst case scenario.

“Hey…Hey, hey, hey, c’mere.” She said pulling you into her arms as you started to cry, “It’s going to be alright, babe. H is not gonna be angry, you know that.” She assured you as she rubbed comforting circles into your back as you held her tight. “You have options, yeah? You know that he’ll have your back no matter what.” She said and you nodded, “Let me get you home, yeah?”

“Okay.” You whispered to your best friend and she gave you one more squeeze before letting you go.

  Once you got to your place she encouraged you to have a shower and that she’d get some tea going for you. You texted Harry that you needed him to come home as soon as possible, you didn’t want this solely on your chest for another minute. You took your time and when Harry started pulling into your driveway Poppy popped in and let you know before shouting a goodbye to you. You sighed and relished in the warm water for just another moment before turning off the water. You were soon reaching for your robe and slipping into it. You padded over to the mirror to wash your face and you bit your lip before untying the robe and looking over your body. You looked the same, you saw no evidence of a baby.

“Baby?” You heard Harry calling from downstairs. Soon, his footsteps were heard coming up the stairs and you quickly tied your robe up and got to lathering your face wash in your hands.

“In the bathroom!” You called back before rubbing it into your skin. He rushed into the bathroom and looked more than relieved to see you intact.

“Are you alright?” He asked and you sighed and quickly bent over to rinse your face. You then dabbed it dry as you reached for your toner.

“I think so…” you responded after a little bit, “I don’t know.” You sighed as you grabbed your moisturizer.

“Well what’s going on? Hmmm?” He asked you as he came over and kissed your shoulder, his arms wrapped around your middled and pulled you in closer and suddenly you had to throw up again. You gasped and wriggled out of his hold and turned around to face him. Your eyes started welling up with tears again and you were just building up the courage to say it. “Baby, you’re worrying me.” He said softly and you swallowed thickly.

“Ummm…I…I’m pregnant.” You said and his jaw slightly dropped. He let out a small and nervous laugh before he just pulled you back into his arms without a single word. You hugged him back and just held each other for a little bit.

“What do you want to do?” He finally asked you and you shook your head.

“I have no fucking clue…” you said and he let you go and hoisted you up onto the counter. You draped your arms over his shoulders as he held your thighs, “I mean, what do you think?” You asked and he sighed.

“I don’t fucking know…I mean, that’s gonna be our baby so I…like I’m inclined t-to give it a try. But at the same time I don’t know that our relationship is ready for something like this. I mean, I want this with you in a few years but we’re just getting started again.”

“I know…I don’t even know how this…like you pulled out.”

“I know, but it’s not always a guaranteed thing.” He said and you sighed.

“I should’ve said something then…” you shook your head as you rubbed your forehead with one of your hands.

“Hey, there’s no point for any would’ve-should’ve-s,” he said, “It’s gonna be alright. We’ll figure it out soon, okay?” You nodded, “Just take your time, baby. Whatever you decide, I have your back.” He assured you and you nodded. He grabbed your face and kissed your lips until you were smiling.

“Stoooop.” You giggled, “M’not in the mood.” You pouted through your smile and he smiled.

“I think you’re lying.” He hummed and you rolled your eyes. “Look, how about we get an appointment with the doctor and see how far along you are and maybe that’ll help us decide what we might want to do.” He said and you nodded.

“Yes, good thinking.” You smiled, “God, I was so scared to tell you.” You sighed and he tutted.

“What made you think to take a test?”

“I smelled something P was cooking and got sick.” You said, you felt tour cheeks growing hot in embarrassment. Harry chuckled and then furrowed his brows pensively. 

“Didn’t you almost get sick at the salad dressing a bit ago?” He recalled and you chuckled.

“Yeah, that’s true…” you remembered, “I mean, I know I haven’t gotten my period but-”

“How was that not a sign?!” He chuckled in disbelief and you proceeded to explain how your period often skipped when you were under a lot of stress so this wasn’t an odd thing for you. But he was sweet, he was calm, but you could see the cogs just turning at full speed in his mind. You hoped he wasn’t angry at you, but you couldn’t help but think that he was and that he would run again. “I’m not angry, you know?” He mumbled softly and you glanced into his eyes and smiled a bit, “I can see it in your eyes, you know?” He whispered.

“You sure?”

“I am, baby. But I am…excited too…I mean, I don’t want to dwell on it too much incase we decide not to proceed with this but…I am. I mean, you’re the only person I want to have a life with. No matter how it happens, it’s you that I want to have babies with and raise them with and just share that experience with. So if you did want to continue with the pregnancy that would be good with me too.” He hummed.

“Okay. Thank you for your opinion.” You whispered before kissing his lips and hugging him tight against. You kissed at his neck as you just nestled yourself in the crook of it. “I love you.”

“I love you.” He smiled.

…. TWO DAYS LATER ….

You currently found your self peeing into a cup at the doctor’s office. You knew you were pregnant, but the doctor wanted to verify before they did an ultrasound to see where you were at. Once you finished you closed up the little jar and left it not he shelf as instructed. You washed your hands and then scurried across the hall and back into your room to see Harry intently reading the poster on the wall abut pregnancy.

“You know you get super horny during the second trimester.” He said in amusement, “As if you needed any more of that while pregnant…greedy.” He mumbled with a grin and you chuckled.

“You’re dumb.” You said as you went back over to the bench and sat again. You dangled your feet back and forth for a bit before Harry came over.

“What’re you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that…this is fucking insane.” You chuckled.

“In a good way?”

“Yeah…bad too.” You hummed and he nodded and leaned in to kiss your cheek.

“It’s going to be just fine, baby.” He assured you right as the doctor knocked at the door. “Come in!” Harry called and soon the woman was coming in.

“Hello, Y/N!” Dr. Sallow greeted you sweetly, “Glad you’re back!” She said with glee and you smiled.

“Thank you.” You replied, “And ummm, this is Harry, my…partner.” You said and she turned to him and smiled.

“Harry, wonderful to meet you.” She smiled and extended her hand and they shook them quickly before she walked over to the screen. “So, you’re here because you are pregnant.” She said and you nodded, “I can confirm that.” She smiled and Harry squeezed your knee when you inhaled sharply. It sort of felt official now. “So we can definitely do an ultrasound if you’d like, the room is available. Or did you have other questions?” she asked.

“Definitely an ultrasound. Want to know how far along I am and that sort of thing.”

“I’d assume fairly early if you’re just noticing any symptoms, so don’t be too disappointed if we don’t see much of anything just yet.” She forewarned and you both nodded. “Alright, I’m gonna have nurse Debbie set up the room and then she’ll escort you over and we’ll get a look at you.”

“Thank you.” You smiled and soon she excused herself before fluttering off to her next patient. You only waited a couple of minutes before nurse Debbie came to escort you to the ultrasound room and got you all set up. Harry was practically bouncing beside you with anxiety as he waited. 

“Let me get the doctor.” Debbie said and hurried out. You glanced over to Harry.

“Hey, hold my hand.” You said and he dragged a chair over and interlocked your fingers. “I’m so excited to see.” You whispered and he grinned wide.

“Me too.” He confessed and you chuckled. “Maybe we…think a bit more about keeping it…” he suggested and you smiled a bit.

“Yeah? You mean it?” You asked softly and he nodded.

“I do, baby.” He smiled. 

A few moments later Dr. Sallow was announcing herself again before coming in. She explained the procedure and then got the gel on you before grabbing the camera and gliding it over your tummy, looking for the best spot.

“Oh…there we are.” she hummed and Harry immediately shot upon seeing the image projected on the screen.

“Oh my god…” he whispered as he squeezed your hand tight and you smiled up at him quickly before you both glanced back over to the screen.

“So that there is the head and the arms and legs…” she pointed out and shifted the angle, “Do you want to know the sex?” She asked as she turned to you and you chuckled.

“That’s…ummm, isn’t it a bit early to know that?” You asked her and she shook her head.

“Not at all, we can tell as early as 10 week if the position is right.” She explained and you’re heart stopped.

“And I’m already 10 weeks along?” You asked shakily as the realization of what this meant started to settle in. You felt Harry starting to pull his hand away from yours.

“Oh no, you’re more like 14 weeks, dear.” She said and that’s when Harry completely pulled away from you and you felt the air completely leave your lungs. You turned to him and he just clenched his jaw as he ran his fingers through the top of his hair. “So do you want to know?” She asked and you were so frozen that you nodded quickly as your eyes teared up. “It’s a girl.” She said with a smiled and you just nodded.

“That’s…that’s so great.” You whispered and then brought a hand up over your mouth in an attempt to muffle the sound as started to cry. Dr. Sallow turned to you quickly with concern and then you felt Harry’s hand grab yours again. You turned towards him and saw he was crying too. “I’m sorry.” You whispered and he shook his head.

“We’ll talk about it.” He said to you softly and you nodded.

“Is everything alright?” Dr. Sallow asked and you sniffled.

“Sorry, yes. I just didn’t mean to say that.” You explained and she apologized but you assured her it was fine. 

You just wanted to get out of there… you were mortified. This wasn’t Harry’s baby and now you really had no idea what to do. You always used condoms with Steven, but now that you knew he was psycho, you had no doubt that he was capable of sabotaging you like this. More than anything you were so hurt and angry that he had taken this from you and Harry. For a second you almost turned and asked for an appointment for an abortion but you glanced at the screen and you were flooded with guilt for even thinking that.

“Ummm, I’d like to leave.” You said as you started to sit up and Dr. Sallow was quick to clean you off. Harry helped you off of the reclining seat and you were back on the road not even ten minutes later. 

You were just silent the whole way home, you felt like shit. You felt awful for getting Harry all excited only to know that this was not his child you were carrying. You were so confused right now, you almost wanted to pinch yourself and hope you woke up. You could feel Harry continuously glancing over at you but you couldn’t look at him. There was no way you could look at him after this. It was over between you two…there was no way you could ask him to stay with you after this. It wouldn’t be fair to him. When you got to the house you made it to the stairwell and plopped down as you started to sob violently.

You moved to the side when you saw Harry coming over, assuming he was just going to go up to the bedroom. But then he crouched down and sat a step above you and pulled you into him by the shoulders.

“It’s o-”

“Don’t say it’s okay.” You cut him off, “This is not okay.” You whispered sadly. “I hate Steven.” You seethed and he swallowed thickly as you started to sob and he pulled you closer and kissed the side of your head.

“I love you, okay? This doesn’t change that for me.” He said to you and you shook your head.

“I would never ask you or expect to stay. It’s not fair to you, Harry…” you said sadly, “I was about to tell Dr. Sallow that I wanted to abort but then I saw the screen again and I just…I don’t think I can do it. That’s like…a part of me too and I just…I don’t think I can go through with it.” You said again, sputtering on your tears. “If that means that we’re over, I get it. I totally understand it.” You sniffled.

Harry frowned deeply as he heard you say this. His heart was completely torn right now. He thought you were reacting this way because you were going to terminate the pregnancy upon finding out that it wasn’t your baby together. But hearing you say that you wouldn’t be able to do that, it made him so angry and so hurt. Despite his own feelings about this, he fully understood why changed your mind. After seeing the tiny little thing tucked inside of you his heart was in shambles too. He was fully ready to advocate for you guys keeping it, but hearing how far along you were, it completely shattered his heart. He felt physically ill as the moment replayed in his brain. You’d both slept with other people during your time apart, so he wasn’t angry at that, it was more that it was Steven’s. A man who had hurt you and disrespected you and that scared you. It made the hate he felt for him grow even more intense than it already was. He was livid, he could kill him for taking this from you two. Harry had to decide how he would proceed from here. You were fully prepared to leave him again in order to keep this baby and the thought of it put so much sorrow in his heart. He didn’t want to lose you.

The idea of leaving you and letting you do this all on your own made his sad. You didn’t deserve that. You deserved to have a good pregnancy, one that came with a supportive partner, someone to share the experience with. He wanted to be the person to be there for you but right now the thought of that little thing growing inside of you made his blood boil with hatred. He couldn’t think clearly in the slightest. 

“I ummm…I love you so much, baby. I just, I think I need some time t-to process this and just think about it all.” He said to you and you nodded. “I love you though. You know that right?” He asked and you nodded again as he kissed the side of your head.

“Love you too.” You whispered and he hummed. “Should I go for a couple of days?” You asked quietly.

“No, baby.” He said quietly, “You stay here and rest up.” He hummed lowly, “I think I’m gonna go up north and just spend a few days with my mum, clear my head, if that’s alright?” He asked. You wanted to say no, the last thing you wanted right now was to be all alone with this information. But you had no choice but to agree, you had just put him in the most impossible position and he deserved to have the space to think about it as calmly and comfortably as possible.

“Yeah, sure.” You whispered.

“Can I tell my mum?” He asked and you sighed.

“Why the fuck not…” You chuckled through your tears and he pouted.

“Hey, look at me.” He insisted, “I won’t if you don’t want me to, baby. This is about you, about your body. If you want me to keep it to myself I will.” He assured.

“Sorry. I’m just afraid that it’ll change how she feels about me.” You explained nervously. You’d had a wonderful relationship with Anne. You missed her wisdom and kindness and friendship during your time apart from Harry and hearing that another man had impregnated you, her son’s girlfriend, well you’d understand if it upset her. 

“No…I mean, things happen. Accidents happen.” He said and you shook your head.

“Baby, I-I don’t think this was accidental because we used a condom every single time. I’m certain of it!” You wept, “Like I’m not stupid, or careless like that.” You assured.

“You think he ruined the condoms?” He asked and you sighed as you recalled all of the overtly possessive things Steven had been saying to you during sex the last month or so that you had been together. Things about making you his forever, about giving him babies one day, making you a mom…you thought he was just introducing some of his preferences in bed with that kind of talk, but maybe it was more than that. 

“It’s very possible.” You said softly.

“Jesus…” he shook his head, “How fucked up was this guy?” He asked you and you shrugged.

“I never saw that side of him before all of this.” You said and Harry sighed and nodded. After a moment of silence he cleared his throat.

“Ummm…I’m just gonna pack and head out soon, want to avoid that rush hour traffic near Birmingham.” He said and you nodded. 

He stood up and then offered to help you stand as well before you guys went up to the room. You sat on the bed as you watched him pack a couple days worth of clothes. You wanted to ask him to stay, but you couldn’t be that selfish. This was the least you could do for him after that a-bomb was just dropped on him. Not to mention the a-bomb you’d just dumped on him too. When he finished packing up his bag he went over and kissed you quickly.

“I’m not running away from you, okay? I just need to clear my head.” He reassured you, his words were mumbled against your forehead before he kissed you there, “I love you so much.” He whispered before kissing your lips.

“Love you.” You mumbled, “Text when you get there, yeah?”

“I will, baby.” He assured.

“Be safe.”

“Always.” He hummed before he bid you farewell once more before he left. 

Once you heard him pull out of the driveway you just curled up on your side and started to cry. This couldn’t be real…there was no way this could be real. You felt completely defeated. The only thing you could think that made you happy was that you never wanted Steven to know about this, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. You had no idea how that would go down with your child in the future, but right now you wanted him not to know a single thing about you ever again. After coming to that conclusion you ended up calling your mom and telling her everything that happened. You talked and cried for nearly an hour before she had to go, but not without promising she’d call again and chat the next day in order to keep you some company, even from afar. 

After that you decided to draw yourself a warm and relaxing bath, that always made you feel so calm. So you started out on that, letting your bath bomb melt in the warm water as you made yourself a nice cup of tea, your last caffeinated one for the foreseeable future, and then got inside.

*****************

Harry had been driving up the M1 motorway for a bit before he quickly texted his mum his ETA. This caused her to call him right away and ask what this surprise visit was about, but he couldn’t speak when he answered her call. He just sobbed, he sobbed for nearly 15 minutes before he shared what had happened that morning at the doctor’s office. He explained everything he was feeling, even the bad things he was thinking, but the one thing that kept coming up was how much he loved you.

“I love her so much but I just don’t think I could get past the fact that, that prick is the baby’s dad…I cannot for the life of me sit with that information and not become enraged by it.” He said, it pained him to spare Steven a thought.

“D-do you feel angry at Y/N for being with him?” She asked and he frowned.

“No/ It’s not like I didn’t see other people but I hate that she thinks that I couldn’t be with her after this. Like, I think about letting her go, like she’s saying, and it absolutely guts me.” He explained. “And like…I feel bad that it crossed my mind at some point, but not for the reasons you might think, it’s just that I don’t know i-if I am even prepared to take that role on.” He sniffled.

“No one ever is, even when it’s meticulously planned, H.” She reasoned and he sighed,

“Are you concerned about him wanting to come back into her life?” She asked and he nodded.

“Yeah…a bit.” He admitted, “I mean, I don’t think he’s the type to take any accountability for his actions but if he finds out about it he’s so arrogant that he might want to just to make her uncomfortable. I mean, Y/N thinks it may have been deliberate because she said she always made sure t-to use protection. I mean, I wouldn’t put it past him to do something like that, the man was completely mad.” He shared and his mum hummed in understanding.

“Well sweetheart, it doesn’t sound to me like you’re all that conflicted. It sounds to me like you don’t want to end things with her.”

“Of course not! But what if I…what I can’t love that baby as much since I now know this?” He asked.

“I-is that what’s holding you back?” She asked and he hummed on confirmation. He felt like a complete prick saying that but he was legitimately concerned about this. What if you went on to have your own kids together and it just changed something in him? What if he was open to being with you now but then changed his mind? What if he saw Steven every time he saw that baby and only felt anger instead of love? The chances of something like this happening were extremely low, practically non-existent, but not 0%. And in the end he would hurt you and that baby even more if he walked out because one of these things happened.

“You know what I think?”

“What?”

“I think you will love her just fine, H. You know why?” She asked and he hummed, “Because out of everyone in the world you know the impact that one incredible and dedicated man can have on a child.” She said and he sniffled, “You’ve seen for yourself that a biological connection is not needed to give someone unconditional love and support. You’re lucky, you got that from two fathers.” She said and he smiled.

“Yeah.” He whispered.

“I’m not saying that it won’t be scary and difficult at times t-to do this, but it can also be extremely beautiful and rewarding. You’re both such wonderful people that if you decided to stay and do this together you could impact that child’s life for the better, just like yours was.” 

“Right…” he said softly

“And well, honestly sweetheart, these concerns you have, they’re things you need to figure out with Y/N. She will listen to you, H. I mean, if you’re feeling this conflicted about things I can’t image how she must be feeling now.” she said with sympathy and when he saw himself nearing Birmingham he felt awful. It got as bad as him feeling sick to his stomach as he pictured your fearful and distraught face back in the bedroom. He’d done it again, he’d left you hanging at a time when you needed his love and support the most. He loved you so much, he could not believe he’d left you alone in that state. And in two seconds he started to signal to get off of the motorway.

“Mum, I ummm…I need to go back and be with, Y/N.” He decided, “I shouldn’t have left here there by herself after everything she had to hear today…I’d be surprised if she was still there after I just walked out…fuck!” He groaned in frustration.

“H, she loves you so much.”

“I love her too…why do I keep doing the wrong thing and hurting her?” He cried now as he got off at the next exit. He was waiting for the traffic to clear before he could make his turn to turn around.

“I think it kind of scares you, how much you love her. And I think in a way you might feel like you could lose her, so you pull back regardless of how that might make her feel. It’s self preservation.” She explained and he swallowed thickly. Hearing this helped him mentally decide that he wasn’t going to run any more, after everything he’d done you’d given him another chance regardless of the possibility of him hurting you again. This was his chance to show you that his love for you was bigger than everything else. “Don’t be afraid to open your heart, sweetheart.” She added and he hummed.

“Alright, thank you for listening. I’m just gonna call Dr. A and ummm…hopefully sort some mental things out before I get back to Y/N.” He said.

“Okay, bub. Be safe, please let me know when you’re home safe. I love you.”

“Love you.” He mumbled before he hung up and got back onto the motorway but heading back towards the South. He wasn’t going to do the same thing again and leave all alone to guess just how much he loved you, not this time. He was going to be there for you and support you and love you both.

*****************

It was a bit odd to you when you heard the large gate to Harry’s house opening up. But then you recalled that sometimes his PA would do errands that required him to come to the house. So you just got out of the tub quickly and rinsed your body off in the shower before getting into your robe in case he came upstairs for any reason. You were just getting one of Harry’s hoodies when you heard his voice.

“Baby? Are you still here?” He called out as you heard the front door shut heavily against the frame. You hurried into the yoga pants you’d grabbed and rushed out to see him coming up the stairs. 

“You came back.” You sighed in relief as he hurried up and he just pulled you right into his arms and you started to cry.

“I’m so sorry. I should never have left you like this, baby.” He sniffled as he kissed your head over and over again. “I love you so much. I love you so fucking much.” He assured you. “I’m not leaving you alone with this, baby.” He said to you and you pulled back a bit to look at him.

“What do you…mean by that?”

“It means that we’re doing this together.” He said to you and you shook your head.

“I can’t…I couldn’t do that to you.” You said to him and he shook his head.

“You’re not doing anything to me, baby. If you’re keeping this baby I am choosing to do this with you. I know it’s going to be hard but I will be there for you every step of the way and love our little babygirl with everything I am. I love you far too much to not see this through with you.” He said and you just broke down and hugged him tight.

You had no words, there was just joy. You knew this would be hard and challenging and even sad at times, but he’d come back to you and he wanted you to stay with him.

“I love you so much, H.” You finally whispered before kissing his lips.

“You’re everything to me, baby. We’re gonna get through this.” He smiled and you smiled.

“Promise?”

“I promise.” He smiled, “It was actually my mum who reminded me that biology had nothing to do with being a great father, so…she doesn’t hate you.” He said and you chuckled through your tears.

“Good, that would’ve definitely been the worst outcome.” You said jokingly and he smiled. “And look, I know that there are a lot of logistics and other things to discuss and I’m still sorting through that mentally, s-so if you can just be a little patient with me while I…get that together in my head I would really appreciate that. I’m still processing that there’s a little person forming in there and it’s kind of…freaky.” You said as you looked up into his eyes and he sputtered on a laugh. You frowned at his reaction, “What?”

“I thought you were going to say it was magical or amazing, not freaky.” He giggled and you did as well. 

“Oh…well, I…I don’t feel…happy about it yet.” You confessed to him and this brought on a fresh wave of tears, “I feel like shit about that. Like I’m gonna be a mom, I should be happy, not freaked out, shouldn’t I?” You asked him.

“Not necessarily. You can feel however you want about it, baby.” He assured you, “Especially in this situation, it’s come as a surprise to you. I don’t judge you at all for not feeling happy about this yet, baby.”

“Promise?”

“I swear it.” He promised before pecking your lips again quickly.

“Thank you.” You whispered and he nodded and smile at you.

“Wanna do something to take your mind off of things for a bit?” He asked.

“Like what?”

“We can…sort through the pantry and fridge and see what foods you’ll have an aversion to?” He offered and you smiled and shook your head at his bizarre, yet completely productive suggestion. “I see you trying to hold back your smile.” He teased and you finally gave in.

“That’s the wildest but most genius thing you’ve ever suggested.” You giggled.

“I know. Imagine how smart our kid’s gonna be?! We’ve got this in the bag.” He said confidently.

“You think so?” You asked and he nodded.

“With you as her mum, I know so.” He smiled.

…. 1 YEAR LATER ….

You woke up feeling completely refreshed and renewed. It was absolutely quiet in the house and it was strange to wake up in silence. When you rolled over and looked at your phone you saw it was nearly 10am and shot out of bed. You had no idea how you’d slept in that much! The baby needed to be fed and changed! You hurried over to the nursery already thinking up an apology in your head for Ellie. But when you made it into the nursery it was empty. Harry had some work to do for Pleasing today so you knew he’d be out. Maybe he called someone to come look after the baby? When you passed by his home studio on the way to the kitchen you heard his voice along with others, so you knocked on the door.

“Come in!” He called quickly and you peeked inside and immediately smiled when you saw Harry spin around in the chair with Elara sitting on his lap, she was literally just chilling there while she drooled all over one of the newer nail polishes Pleasing would release soon. He smiled at you over the sounds of whoever was speaking right now. “Hey guys, are we good for today or is there anything else we needed to go over?” He asked with a smile as you waved from the background.

“We’re all good!” You heard and then heard the multiple voices bidding farewell to you and baby Elara before he hung up.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You said to him as you walked into the room to grab her from him.

“It’s alright, baby, we were just chatting a bit.” He assured you, “Weren’t we?” He asked the baby who just ignored him to keep attempting to bite the bottle in her hands before he started to rub at her back.

“I know you had work, you should’ve woken me up.” You said as you kissed his head.

“No way.” He chuckled, “You know, you slept through two whole alarms, you clearly needed the rest. I thought you were dead for second there.” He said with grin and you tutted.

“Don’t even say that.” You scolded.

“You’re right, sorry. Bad joke.” He corrected himself, “But really, my love, I don’t mind doing these launch plan meetings online, it’s none of the fun stuff so.” He shrugged and you smiled, “Besides when I have Ellie on camera everyone is so obsessed with her little smile that they’re so agreeable, so it’s a win-win.” He chuckled and you smirked.

“God forbid the paps see her and exploit her for money, but her own father is exploiting her cuteness for sway in the board room.” You said with a grin and he chuckled.

“Hey, she likes hearing all the commotion too.” He added and you smiled before kissing the top of her head and she sighed and laid over his chest making you both coo. “She finally slept through the night. Sorry you missed it.” He said softly and you chuckled.

“I’m sorry you’re so used to waking up to her crying that you noticed!” You giggled as you raked your fingers through his curls easily and he hummed.

“I don’t mind it. Reminds me that this little cutie is finally here.” He said and you smiled at how sweet he was with her.

“I can’t believe she’ll be six whole months tomorrow.” You said in disbelief.

“I know…S’your half birthday, bub.” He said to her and she just blinked tiredly, "She’s perfect though, isn’t she? Your little twin.” He hummed with pride as he looked down at her and then at you again. You nodded and watched him with her for a few moments.

Harry had nothing but love for baby Elara. He adored her completely. He almost felt silly for being so worried that he wouldn’t bond with her as genuinely as if she were his biological daughter. Once he saw you starting to show and you guys started shopping for the nursery, and picking out baby names, every ounce of doubt he had melted away. That was his daughter in every sense of the word. He had so much love for the both of you that he felt like his heart would burst sometimes.

“I love you so much.” You said to him and he glanced up at you.

“More than Ellie?” He smirked and you chuckled.

“The same, I think.” You hummed and he looked surprised.

“Oh wow, I was expecting a firm no.” He laughed.

“Oh my god…I love you both. It’s a bit different for sure but I somehow get it all to fit in my heart.” You said and he smiled as he stood up.

“Look at her, she’s about to pass out again.” He said as he looked down at the baby.

“I think we should get her back in the crib and have a cuddle. We can watch that show you’ve been pestering me about.” He suggested

“Love is Blind?” You gasped and he nodded. 

Soon enough you had washed your face and brushed your teeth, as you did every morning, all while Harry got Ellie down. But he soon joined you in bed as you waited for him to return. He climbed into the bed beside you and like a magnet, you immediately scooted right up against him and kissed him gently, it caught him by surprise.

“Thank you for letting me sleep in, baby. That was exquisite.” You confessed and he smiled and pecked your lips again.

“Of course, baby. Anytime.” He smiled. “I do have a question for you though…when are we going to have another baby?” He asked you and you giggled.

“Ummm, ask me in a year!” You laughed.

“A year?” He scoffed.

“Hey, it’s hard work!” You added and he smiled.

“Yeah, but it’s so worth it, isn’t it?” He asked with a smile and you sighed happily at his response.

“Yeah…” you hummed, “It’s all worth it.” You smiled.

“Our little family makes me so happy, I just want one more.” He said and you glanced into his eyes.

“Just one more.” You agreed and he chuckled.

“Yeah, just one.” He assured you, “So in a year I’ll ask again, okay?”

“Okay.” You sniggered and kissed him quickly again before you got the show going.

You were explaining a little bit about why you were suddenly so interested in this show without trying to give away too much of what you knew had gone down, thanks to your friends and social media. He easily got sucked into the narrative and when you both started commenting as you watched on you just got so happy that you could share something so simple together and then also something as huge and serious as a baby. It made your tummy flutter and swirl with love for him and you then realized that maybe it would be less than a year before you’d be trying for another baby and you were perfectly alright with that.

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[libraryraccoon]

Kk so I am too lazy to write on my own but I have come up with a pretty good day dream scenario that you can write for ( I might also do it but maybe not).

But a police officer with a strong sense of justice goes to hell and starts trying to organize after spawning in one of the worst areas in hell, even the overlords are hesitant to go in there. But as they gain more and more power the area to clean up expands.

Their really not a bad person , one of the only reasons their there is because they had premarital sex . ( They banged someone's wife when drunk).

Was killed by the husband by a shot in the chest. Now resemble a fox because of their wit and inganuty.

( in sry if it's too specific but you can cut out anything u don't want)

Gender : GN

Pronouns : None

Message from Raccoon : I try to write a police officer!reader, but i'm pretty sure it's bad.

TW : Reader is in Hell 2 years before the series, 🟣 (one time mentionned), violence.

General Headcanon

In your lifetime you were a police officer, and a good one at that.

But unfortunately, one day you died and arrived in hell.

The person you loved was cheating on their partner with you. They didn't like it and killed you.

You are now in Hell.

Hell sorely lacked justice, but it's okay, you will rectify it.. :)

Vox didn't like you. Like, really.

He heard about you after you nearly beat Valentino to death.

Why did you beat Valentino ? Because he was a 🟣, forcing people to prostitute themselves, and more.

You also beat Velvette a bit because she created the love potions.

So yes, he didn't like you.

He start to hate you when you broke his head/tv when you saw him manipulating people..

It's hell ! What did you expect ?! Everyone manipulates !

A violent police officer. This is what you were.

You killed everyone who did things against your morals... in one month you killed more than the exterminators ever did.

Adam sees you as a sort of rival/person on his level.

Alastor find you entertained.

You were the only one in Hell with a moral, so you were interesting.

He also finds it very interesting that you manage to beat 3 Overlords and that 2 Overlords (Carmilla and Zestial) consider you their equal.

He wanted to come talk to you, but he decided not to after seeing you kill a demon with an angelic weapon because they were cannibals.

Compared to what you might think, he have a sense of self-preservation.

When you arrived at the hotel, as part of security, Alastor was a little scared..

Especially when you pointed your gun at his forehead, where the hunter had shot, killing him when he was alived.

Bonus point if you are a dog demon, he is really scared and wonders if you want to reproduce his death.

Husk love you and love the fact that you can scared Alastor, he live for seeing that man being your victim.

Niffty love you, she think you are a real bad boy ! RIP

You and Vaggie get along well, you both know that not everyone can be redeemed (looking at Alastor from a distance) and you know how fucked up Hell is.

But you help Charlie because some still have a chance to redeem themselves (looking discreetly at Sir Pentious).

Sir Pentious was afraid of you at first, but in the end he start to like you.

You always get him out of the worst situations, I can imagine that you saw Vox try to use his power on Sir Pentious when he was a 'spy', and you directly destroyed the watch by throwing a knife at it.

Sir Pentious didn't even notice you were here-

After that, a long conversation followed about why we should not harm the Hotel and its residents and avoid the Vees.

Sir Pentious thanked you very much for that by the way.

After that Vox received a little visit from you..

If it wasn't for Charlie stopping you from killing him, he would have died instead of just being injured/broken.

Vox spent a week in repair/hospital.

Angel Dust adores you.

Every time you accompany him to work, strangely Valentino gives him the day off..

Yeah, he takes you with him whenever you can.

Even if you hate the Overlords, you are one of them.

Overlord D/N (demon name), the Police Officer of Hell.

Carmilla loves it when you are at meetings, the other Overlords (*cough* Vees *coughs*) are always calm when you are here.

You 🤝 break into Lucifer's house.

Yeah, because well before the hotel, 3 days after your arrival, you break into Lucifer's house.

Why ? Because you found unacceptable that he didn't manage Hell and let the demons do all they want.

You didn't expect to find yourself faced with a depressed father whose wife left 5 years ago and who he no longer really has contact with his daughter.

You had to play therapist and friend.

Literally you were giving him therapy sessions in exchange of him letting you stay at his house.

You don't even have a degree in therapy.

Lucifer considers you as his lifeline. He clings to you for dear life, metaphorically and literally.

Hurt this man and the next day you will find his corpse-

Is this a healthy friendship ? No, but are you going to ignore this fact and pretend everything is normal ? Yes.

You have changed his point of view on demons, in the sense that some, not all but some, can be redeemed.

I headcanon that you repaired Charlie and Lucifer's relationship, and that before the series.

Greatest dad didn't happen, sorry everyone.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Loving Suffocation.

A Continuation Of This Piece.

Written for a very lovely, very indulgent anonymous commissioner.

Pairing: Yandere!Loid x Reader x Yandere!Yor (SxF).

Word Count: 4k.

TW: Non/Con, AFAB!Reader, Slight Somnophilia, Spanking, Sex Toys, Breeding, Mentions of Pregnancy, Medical Malpractice, Oral Sex, Obsessive Behavior, Slight Gaslighting, Bruising/Marking, and Overstimulation.

You never did get to see your opera. A lack of oxygen turned your cramped world blurry and abstract, and you faded in and out of consciousness while Yor fussed over your ruined dress and gathered you up in her arms, the strip of fabric she’d tied around your neck and stuffed in your mouth – not quite a gag, but enough to convince your uncooperative vocal cords that calling for help wouldn’t be worth the effort. Sometime between being pulled against Yor’s chest and slipping out of that sex-saturated storage closet, you blinked and by the time you could find the strength to open your eyes again, you were in your apartment, in your own bed, your makeshift gag gone and your wrists bound  behind your back with a generous amount of duct tape. You briefly considered calling for help, but you were past the point of screaming. Even if you tried, the Forgers were your only neighbors close enough to hear, and you’d seen enough of enough of that family for a lifetime.

Just as exhaustion began to overwhelm your better judgement, you caught stifled footsteps in the near distance, heard the door to your bedroom creak open and shut with enough force to shake the drywall. This time, when you closed your eyes, it was in a deliberate effort to will yourself to sleep. An effort that was, of course, rendered futile by Yor’s hand on your forehead, a soft hum too tender to be purposefully deceptive. “I think they might be asleep. The poor thing could barely hold their eyes open.”

“That’s fine.” Instantly, your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. He spoke quietly, keeping his voice low and airy, but even in worst dreams, Loid seemed to be able to carve out a place for himself. It made sense for him to make an appearance in this nightmare, too. “Can you show me where the damage is?”

You held your breath as Yor’s hand drifted from your face to your thigh. After a moment of hesitation, she nudged you onto your back, pulling the ragged remains of your skirt up to your waist. You fought not to bolt up as cold air washed over your exposed, abused cunt – not to ball your fists as you felt Loid’s narrowed eyes pry into you the way they always seemed to when you passed each other in the hall, when he got home before you could find a reason to get out of the Forgers’ suffocating apartment. You managed to hold yourself still as he clicked his tongue, edging that much closer to the foot of your bed. You could picture him leaning over you, perfectly styled blonde hair falling ever so slightly out of place as he took long, agonizing seconds to evaluate the bruises lining the inside of your thighs, the crescent-shaped marks Yor’s nails had left pressed in your hips, your waist. Calloused fingertips brushed over your ankle, but further restraint was deemed unnecessary as his attention shifted back to his wife. “And you said you found them…?”

“Unconscious,” she filled in. You could hear her shifting her weight, feigning concern as her husband evaluated you. “In front of our building. I tried to wake them up, but they panicked, and I remembered the treatment you told me about for—for hysteria.” She paused, swallowed. “I thought I could help, but I’m afraid I might’ve just made things worse…”

Loid’s response was delayed, put off in favor of inching that much closer to you. The mattress dipped as he rested a knee on the foot of your bed. Don’t move, you repeated to yourself, despite the ever-growing urge to get up and run gnawing violently at the back of your mind. If you pretended to be asleep, you’d only have to tolerate a few minutes of his attention before he got tired of leering at your conscious body. If you pretended to be asleep, they’d leave and you could start to forget this ever happened.

It got harder to be so rational as he reached out, running two fingers over your slit and splitting apart the lips of your pussy, giving himself a better view of your abused clit, your entrance – still pitifully drooling slick. You tried to remember what kind of doctor he was, but any specialties that might’ve come to mind were immediately forgotten as his gloved fingers slipped inside of you. You had to bite back a quiet hiss as he scissored open the sore walls of your cunt, his touch probing and experimental. At least Yor had the decency not to draw it out. “You reacted swiftly and efficiently. Even trained paramedics leave residual damage.” He drew back suddenly, and you fought not to jolt at his callousness. “Can you show me what exactly your…” He trailed off. You could practically hear the curiosity in his voice. “…your treatment entailed?”

Yor made a noise you couldn’t decipher. Loid moved away from you entirely, but Yor was quick to take his place. She settled into the space between your legs, her hands – shaking ever so slightly – taking up your hips, her fingertips near-perfectly aligned with the dark bruises pressed into your skin. You felt her breath ghost over the inside of your thighs, the flat of her tongue run gingerly over your slit, and you bolted upward on instinct, mouth open and ready to—

—ready to have your scream stifled and suffocated by Loid’s palm as he forced his hand over your mouth and shoved you back into the mattress. Unable to claw at his arm, to pry him off of you, you thrashed under his steadfast hold, but he didn’t seem to pay you any mind. Rather, his eyes met yours for all of half a second before flickering to his wife, sparing her a slight nod. “Patients usually react with some level of resistance. You can go on.”

Yor’s eyes widened, but any shock she might’ve felt seemed to melt away at her husband’s assurance. She was more nervous, now that she was performing for an audience rather than assaulting you in the privacy of her chosen hideaway, but the little, tentative movements of her tongue got braver over time, her eyes closing as her hands drifted from your waist to your thighs. She nudged your legs onto her shoulders and latched onto your clit, suckling with just enough force to draw a reaction out of your burnt-out nerves, to leave you trembling and struggling to swallow back pained moans and pathetic whimpers. It hurt – more than anything, it hurt – but she had your body trained, knew just what points to hit to get what she wanted out of you. More than that, your body knew that it wasn’t going to end until she reached her goal, until she had you cumming on her tongue for the— god, how many times would this make? You’d lost track after the first dozen, but even if you hadn’t, it would’ve been impossible to tell, impossible to know what she’d accomplished the first time reality started to blur and consciousness was rendered more of revokable privilege than something you’d ever be capable of holding on to without help. In less than a minute, you were grinding against her tongue involuntarily, the movement of your hips stilted and jerky. You couldn’t have called it a real orgasm, not when any pleasure you could’ve felt was so overshadowed by a searing sort of ache, but Yor seemed satisfied – drawing the back of her hand over her chin as she lifted her head, sending Loid a sheepish smile.

“I just, uh,” she started, drumming her fingers over your thigh. “I just did that until they calmed down. I’m not sure if it helped.”

“I see.” Loid, for his part, failed to let his air of stoic professionalism so much as waver.  “And how many times did the patient reach climax?”

“…thirty?” Yor let out an airy, nervous laugh. “Maybe more. It… It was a little hard to keep track, in the moment.”

“And they’re still so unruly.” He was kind enough to feign concern, to let his tone soften and purse his lips into a thin frown. For a second, you let yourself believe that you’d just stumbled into a bad situation – that he and his wife were under some shared delusion and genuinely thought they might’ve been helping you, but then you caught a spec of crimson on the collar of Yor’s dress out of the corner of your eye and thought better of trying to humanize them. “Would you mind if I took a closer look?”

The question was posed to Yor, not you. “Please do, you’re the doctor here,” she spouted, hurrying to get out of Loid’s way. Loid was more hesitant, his palm lingering over your mouth as his eyes found yours. He was cold at the best of times – his expression often hollow when he thought your attention was elsewhere, his touch enough to send a chill down your spine on the rare occasion he found an excuse to put his hands on you – but the look he sent you as he uncovered your mouth was nothing short of frigid. The threat was clear, albeit ambiguous. You had no idea what Loid was capable of, let alone what extremes he was willing to go to.

But, you knew what Yor could do – you’d caught her in the act.

And you weren’t eager to find out what’d she’d do to you at her husband’s request.

When his hand finally fell away from your mouth, you didn’t make a sound. Rather, you dug your teeth into the inside of your cheek as Loid wrapped an arm around your waist and hauled you onto his lap – his thighs cutting harshly into your stomach. The position was enough to leave your cheeks burning and humiliation tying knots in the back of your throat, but whatever embarrassment you might’ve felt was multiplied ten-fold as his hand ghosted over the buttons lining the back of your dress and your only remaining protective barrier fell away – mutilated fabric now limp and useless beneath you. You started to writhe, but the heel of Loid’s palm found the small of your back, pressing into the base of your spine with just enough force a pained whimper past your lips. Reflectively, Yor moved to reach towards you, but Loid shook his head. “It’s important to test for reactiveness,” he explained, tone flat and steely. “I can take care of bruises and cuts, but lasting nerve damage will make things—” He paused, clicked his tongue. “—difficult.”

“Oh!” Yor clapped her hands together. At least she seemed to sincerely believe that, even if she wasn’t helping you, her husband might be. You couldn’t tell what Loid was thinking, but it couldn’t have been so benevolent. “Is that what you’re doing now? Testing for reactiveness?”

“Exactly.” Loid flashed her a smile. You felt him shift, fish something out of the pocket of his suit jacket. Aching numbness had put you at a distance from his invasive touch before, but Yor’s mouth had done away with that – resurrecting the buzzing sort of hyper-sensitivity that meant you weren’t able to hide the way your hips bucked against his thigh as he slid something sleek and metallic into your drenched pussy. It was oddly shaped – one end tapered and the other flat, small enough to fit in the palm of your hand but still big enough to leave you squirming uncomfortably as Loid pulled back. “Normally, I’d use more intricate equipment, but there are a few experiments I can run on my own.”

You heard nails against metal, a soft click muffled by stiff machinery. After a second of delay, the object inside of you let out an abrupt pulse of pure vibration – harsh and sudden and awful. Your reaction was reflexive, undisguisable. You threw your head forward as you bit back a bubbling, broken moan; waves of intense reverberation beating at the walls of your cunt. There was no time to brace yourself, to grow into the piercing sting – it was already too much. The walls of your pussy clenched around the source of your agony, and before you could think to stifle your reactions, to give them as little as you possibly could, tears were blurring your vision, dripping down your cheeks. Yor cooed, kneeling in front of you and cupping your cheeks. “Poor thing…” she mumbled, before looking up towards Loid. “I don’t think they’re enjoying it.”

Another wave of pulsing reverberation, a jagged cry forced past your lips. “P-please, turn it off, take it out, I can’t—”

It took you a second to process the sound of a palm against flesh, how it might’ve been connected to the bright flash of pain just below the curve of your ass. When you could bring yourself to glance over your shoulder, his hand was raised, his expression stern. The sight was enough to make your heart ache in your chest – a sensitivity which surprised you. You hadn’t thought there was anything the Forgers could do to hurt you more than they already had.

“We’re going out of our way to help you.” It was the same tone he used with Anya when she refused to do her homework or threatened to drop out of her upper-crust academy. Whatever genuine sympathy he might’ve had for you was buried beneath a heavy layer of practiced stoicism and nearly totalitarian authority, turning the words cold where they should’ve been comforting. “It’s unfair to be so ungrateful when Yor’s already sacrificed so much of her time for the sake of your health. Why don’t you apologize to her?”

Again, you heard that same soft click, and the vibrations pulsing out of the object in your cunt doubled in intensity. You let your head fall forward, clenching your eyes shut as you struggled to spit something out. “I… I’m sorry, Yor, I didn’t mean to—”

You were cut off by a sharp moan, the feeling of Loid’s fingers tracing over your slit. Soon, the pad of his thumb found your clit, pushing dull circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. He let out an airy chuckle as you withered into yourself, your legs spreading involuntarily as your feet struggled to find purchase on carpeting that seemed to be just an inch too far, to ground yourself on something that Loid didn’t even have to try to keep just out of your grasp. “Don’t strain yourself,” he muttered, your unwanted reward for your easy compliance. “How does this—” He pushed a rough pattern into your clit, drawing out a wavering cry. “—feel?”

Miserable. Torturous. The worst thing that’d ever been inflected onto your poor, spent body. You deflated, your chest flattening against Loid’s thighs. “…it hurts.”

This time, he let you finish before pulling back, his palm striking your ass with twice the force he’d used before. You cried out, the noise uneven and anguished, but your pain didn’t seem to rank very high on his nebulous list of concerns. “I’ve already told you not to be so ungrateful,” he said, shaking his head. “Do you know what would’ve happened if we weren’t here to help you?” Another strike, another ragged sob. “You’d be suffering on your own, in excruciating pain and spiraling into your own delusions. If we hadn’t been there to correct you so quickly, you would’ve been unrecoverable.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You were babbling, now, your apologies clumped together and nearly unintelligible. Loid cut in, pointed as ever.

“You’ve already apologized.” Two digits slipped into you, splitting your pussy open. Somehow, the added stimulation only seemed to make his device’s vibration more unbearable. “Now, it’s time to tell Yor how thankful you are.”

“Thank you—” There was no hesitation, no resistance. If you’d been able to, if you hands hadn’t been bound, you would’ve clung to her, dug your nails into her shoulder and your teeth into Loid’s thigh, anything to feel like you weren’t about to fall apart altogether. “Thank you, I’m so— I can’t— Thank you—”

It was Yor, this time – her mouth crashing against yours as her hand found the back of your head. Her tongue slipped past your lips, raking over yours with a ginger sort of tenderness and raking her fingers through your hair, drinking down every little moan and whimper her husband forced out of you with enthusiasm. She lingered there, lips moving gently against yours, as you reached your next climax – the number completely lost on you, now. When she pulled away, eyes glazed over and a dark blush painted over her cheeks, Loid hummed approvingly, fishing his bullet-shaped device out of your pussy and switching it off. Slick dripped down the inside of your thighs, your chest heaving stiltedly against his lap, and you noticed, for the first time, something large and stiff pressing into your stomach. For your own sake, you decided you weren’t going to think about it.

But, like always, Loid was quick to tear even the comfort you found in your own mind away from you.

“You did what you could,” Loid started, with heavy sigh. “But their condition is worse than I thought. It might take more than the usual treatment to set them back on the right path.” A lengthy pause, an arm looped underneath you. With more care than he’d seen fit to show you all night, Loid repositioned you on your back in the center of your bed. You were too exhausted to so much as try to protest. “For cases like this, insemination is the only known cure.”

Yor blinked up at him, more curious than confused. “Insemination?”

“Pregnancy,” Loid filled in. “It can be done artificially, but for cases this severe…”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. Weakly, you tried to sit up, but it was Yor that stopped you, this time, pressing her hand flat against your shoulder and pinning you down effortlessly. “If that’s what’s best,” she chimed, her smile wide and brilliant. “Can I help?”

For the first time, Loid’s expression seemed to warm. “Of course.”

Less than a full minute later, you were slotted against Yor, your head resting on her chest and her arms loosely wrapped around your midriff. Loid had reclaimed his position in the space between your open legs, one hand on your hip and the other toying with his clothes, shifting the waist of his now-wrinkled dress pants down just far enough to free his flush cock – already hard, already leaking pearls of arousal. The sight, paired with the breathy sigh he let out as he wrapped his fist around his shaft, was enough to dash any hopes you might’ve had of a last-minute change of heart.

You squirmed in Yor’s hold, your fists balling around your own near ruined sheets as Loid aligned himself with your entrance. You didn’t realize you were talking until you heard your own voice, fragile and desperate, nearly too broken to be comprehensible. “Please don’t, I—I’m not sick, please don’t—”

It was Yor who hushed you, this time, smiling as she pressed a fleeting kiss into your cheek. “He’s going to help you,�� she whispered, tone simpering where you wished it would be sterile. “You can just sit back and relax while we—” She paused, squeezed you against her playfully. “—make sure you’re alright.”

There was a beat of silence, of stillness. Eventually, you managed to stutter out, “I don’t want your help.”

Loid let out an airy chuckle, tracing the flushed tipped of his cock over your slit. “You don’t have to want anything.” He bowed his head, leaning down far enough to rest his lips against the top of your head. “You’ll need all the help you can get, in a few weeks.”

You didn’t have time to protest, not before he thrust into you – sheathing himself to the hilt in a single stroke.

You tried to scream, but Yor’s mouth found yours in a moment, swallowing any fractured noises you might’ve been able to make. Loid didn’t seem interested in giving you time to adjust; immediately falling into a rhythm just as forceful and just as cruel as anything else he’d done to you. It wasn’t a question of if it would hurt, anymore, but how badly. The feeling of his not inconsiderably length splitting open your aching pussy alone was enough to bring tears to your eyes, and his rough thrusts, his shattering pace – all of it only working to agitate the few parts of you that hadn’t already gone numb to his assult. You clenched your eyes shut, willing yourself to go completely numb, but Yor cooed, one of her hands falling away from you only to find its way to the curve of your stomach, her palm soon pressed flat against your skin. “Miss Anya did mention wanting a younger sister,” she muttered, nuzzling into the dip of your shoulder. “It’ll be difficult to hide, ‘till it’s over with. There used to be a single mother working at city hall, but the State Security Service paid her a visit and…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “But I’m sure that won’t be an issue for you!”

“Of course not.” Loid’s voice was breathy, his attention mostly elsewhere. He did his best to stay composed, to maintain that painstakingly professionally air, but you could feel him twitch inside of you, feel his hips stutter as his pace grew that much more brutal. “We’ll be taking care of you. When you start to show, you’ll move in with us, and—” A groan, a pair of tired eyes allowed to close. “—and if you cooperate, we’ll make it so you don’t have to worry about anything aside from the baby. Any added stress will only make the pregnancy more difficult.”

Loid’s hips pressed against yours, Yor’s mouth on the curve of your neck. “Our little family is growing so quickly.” You could feel her grin against your throat, fangs ready to clamp down at the first sign of resistance. “I can’t wait until you’re better. You’ll be so happy, when you’re in your right mind again.”

Your mouth fell open, but anything you might’ve said died in your throat long before it could ever reach your tongue. There was no pleasure to it, no stimulation other than the same grating sensation and the pinpoints of pressure where Loid’s fingertips dug into your waist, but if your comfort mattered to Loid, he would’ve stopped as soon as he saw what his wife did to you. He cursed under his breath, throwing his hand forward and hauling your rigid body that much closer to his. You didn’t have a chance to brace yourself, to trick your pain-addled mind into believing there was anything you could possibly do to get away from him before he went still, something thick and searing flooding into your unprotected cunt. He lingered there, his cum leaking out of you despite your pussy’s futile attempts to cling to his cock, and for the first time, you let yourself think about what they were taking about – insemination, pregnancy, growing families and new siblings. You let yourself acknowledge the weight of Yor’s hand against your stomach, Loid’s hips against yours. You let yourself breath in, holding the air in your lungs for a moment before exhaling and going limp against Yor.

Fuck.

If you never saw the Forgers again, it’d still be a day too soon.

Yor started to pull away from you, but Loid stopped her. “Conception can be fickle,” he started, fighting not to pant audibly. “It’d be for the best if we were…” His eyes dropped to you. “…thorough.”

“Do you hear that?” Her hold grew that much tighter, her smile that much brighter. Her lips ghosted over the shell of your ear. The feeling might’ve sent a chill down your spine, if you still had the strength to be afraid of them.

“Loid’s going to take very good care of you.”