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toxicanonymity · 2 months ago

Text

Wreck

PAIRING: Michael Myers x fem/afab Reader

ONE SHOT: 4300 words | MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: MM is unconscious and shackled in a broken down bus. Reader takes shelter there and takes advantage.

WARNINGS: 18+ noncon dry humping, oral, & PIV; size kink, size diff, mask kink, manhandling, creampie, forced cum inflation - erotic body horror, (self) cum play. smut goes hard. 😳

NOTES: Reader wears a chekov's dress, no pronouns used. MM never speaks, and his face and hair are undescribed, so you can HC a DILF of your choice under the mask. Even him.

For @megangovier, @aurorawritestoescape , @sofmoth , and the cumflation nation. Thank you for your support and Happy Shaperil, everyone (the halfway point between Octobers). 💙

Hitchhiking didn’t even seem like a good idea at the time. You weren’t kidding yourself. Not only did you accept the risk, but there was something about the risk that made you feel alive.

This time was different, though. You became more uneasy as the ride continued. The man kept looking over and eyeing your legs as you tugged your dress down. This wouldn’t have bothered you much if he were someone else. In fact, if he’d pulled over to fuck you, it wouldn’t be your first rodeo, but there was something sinister about this man, and not in a hot way. As he lost control of his truck, there was a split second where you thought, thank God–until the truck began to roll.

You escaped the wreck dizzy but unscathed. The adrenaline surging through your blood made you so horny you would’ve considered fucking the man after all, if he weren’t staring blankly into space as the life drained from his face.

After climbing out of the truck, you took a few deep breaths and surveyed the surroundings. Bodies were strewn across the road and an orange prisoner transport bus was hissing smoke from the distorted hood of its engine. This was bad. You needed to get as far away as you could.

The problem was, you were in the middle of nowhere, in an unforgiving desert, and you were almost out of water. None to be found in the wreckage of your ride, and you hesitated to approach the prisoner transport bus.

From the comfort of your bed, under the buzz of a toy, this could easily have been another fantasy of yours, but it seemed your survival instincts were kicking in after all.

So you took what water you had and set off on foot in the direction you were headed all along. With any luck, the transport vehicle wasn’t coming from too far away. Keeping a safe distance from the transport bus, you listened for any signs of life as you walked by it, and you heard none, until you were thirty paces away, and something thumped. You thought. Or was it your imagination? Pausing to listen, you didn’t hear another sound, and weren’t sure what you would have done if you did hear something else.

All you could do was walk, but with every step, you became less sure of your plan. You weren’t entirely sure what road you were even on, only that it was long and straight. State route something or other. No shade. Only cacti and tumbleweed. The road ahead faded into a slippery mirage. What do they say to do when you get lost? Stay in one place, right? Authorities would be looking for the transport bus. When they found it, they’d find you. Yeah. With that revelation, you turned around and headed back toward the bus.

As you walked by the bus this time, you came a little closer, and you had to do a double-take at one of the windows. An enormous man with a stark white face and dark eyes staring at the ceiling of the bus—no, not dark eyes. A mask. Your breath hitched. That’s when you read the lettering on the side of the bus for the first time:

SMITH’S GROVE SANITARIUM

Your chest went hot with recognition. You didn't feel alone anymore. The desert didn't feel quite as big.

The sun had been fading as you walked, but sunset seemed to accelerate after this revelation.

A crack of thunder told you why.

Fat drops of petrichor began to blacken the dusty road in perfect little circles. As the rain picked up, you cupped your hands together, turned your mouth to the sky for a drink.

You had a few choices, none of them good. Sit on the side of the road in the rain. Return to the wreckage and take shelter with your driver’s body. Flatten yourself under the transport bus like a cat. Or get on board.

You approached the open doors of the bus with your heart pounding. Was anyone alive in there? They would've left, wouldn't they? Why would Michael be wearing his mask?

With your first steps onto the stairs, the echo of your shoe made you jump. You took them off after climbing into the vehicle. The driver’s head was slumped over the steering wheel, eyes open. Some of the blood appeared to be dry. If there had been others in the bus, they must have fled before your accident.

The only bodies remaining were two, near the back: That hulking figure and a man in a white coat. Strewn about were an open box marked “evidence,” a ballpoint pen in the shape of a spine, scattered papers, and a box labeled MYERS 10-19-1957

You pieced together the scene: perhaps the doctor himself had provided the mask. People said he wasn’t right in the head. That he revered Michael as a force of nature who belonged in the wild. The scene before you began to resemble the ruins of ill fated plans to return Michael to his rightful state. The psychiatrist had even brought a knife for the killer–a knife that ended up in his own neck, somehow.

As you neared the bodies, you thought you heard what sounded like a quiet ventilator at a slow rhythm.

When you listened closer, you could hardly hear it over the rain and the best of your own heart. But something told you Michael was alive. He was alive, you could feel it. Dark energy radiated from his seat, making you weak, holding you captive. Your legs wouldn't move even if you wanted to run.

Was he hurt?

The sound of the rain hitting the roof of the bus was soothing. More soothing than it should have been.

When you got close enough to look at Michael from a different angle, you really began to feel how large he was. He was sturdy. His trunk was strong and thick. His arms were huge. You couldn't see his neck, but there was a sliver of skin exposed between the front of his jumpsuit and the rubber of the mask, and there was a thick vein there. The jumpsuit stretched over the expanse of his chest, and the rise and fall of it told you he was alive.

As your eyes panned down, your breath hitched at a raised lump on his lower torso.

A phallic lump, in just the right place… Jesus Christ, could it be that big?

Was he hard?

Was he awake?

You were transfixed by this bulge and the promise of its girth. Your body readied itself without your permission, churning slick into your core, opening up, making room for a monstrous intrusion. Your face heated up at the thought. You salivated. Your heart raced.

You looked away and closed your eyes, and felt it even stronger.

You sat down in the seat diagonal from his, but couldn't take your eyes off him. It was self preservation - he could come to life and attack at any moment. Willing yourself to think about anything else, you tried to imagine where you'd be without the crash.

Who knows how long you were sitting there, but the rain was heavier, and your loins were hotter. Your thighs stuck to the weathered brown seat as you began to rise. You were tingling, dripping, Throbbing, throbbing for this killer.

Unable to resist any longer, you approached. You watched his chest rise and fall at a steady rhythm. Listened for his breathing, no longer audible under the hard rain.

You inched ever closer, until you were facing him and placed your hand near his shoulder on the corner of the seat, a small slice of brown not covered by his body.

And then, you experimentally grazed the arm of his jumpsuit.

He didn't move.

You ran your fingers over his enormous biceps, and his muscles dwarfed your hand.

He didn't move.

You gave his arm a squeeze.

He didn't move.

He was slumped down in the seat a little bit and his hands were cuffed behind his back.

His feet were shackled.

You began to calculate how badly he could hurt you if he were to react to your closeness.

What kind of weapons could he use?

What would his instinct be?

Part of you was excited to find out.

You progressed from touching his arm to touching his chest. And then…. your hand traveled down his torso, growing ever closer to the telltale shape sprouting from his crotch.

The body under your hand became warmer as your palm slid down his core and swerved to the side of the massive log in its path.

You just barely grazed the side of it, and a shock of arousal seized your body, paralyzing you for just a moment.

You had to remember to breathe.

You were drooling, throbbing for him. Your hand shakily dragged down along the edge of the outline of his cock, the edge of your finger rubbing just hard enough against it to feel the heat of the shape, and the give of the organ.

He wasn't even at full mast. He was semi-hard. You looked up at the mask again. Checked his chest for any changes in breathing. He showed no signs of waking up. So you did it. You placed your hand there, gently, and cradled the shape of his dick.

You’d never been more aroused. It was enormous under your hand. It made you feel small. You were so turned on and also nervous. Could you even take him if you wanted to? Who were you kidding: you wanted to. But it was a scary thought. Who could possibly take a dick like this? Your hand rubbed him lightly, all the way down his shaft, between his spread legs, to feel his enormous balls, which gave you another zap of need.

And when your palms slid back up his dick, you pressed down a little harder. His girth swelled against your hand, twitched, and got firmer.

You slowly moved your hand, slid your palm up and down his shaft, feeling him stiffen into a bold, erect shape until his absurd girth strained the fabric of his jumpsuit.

He still hadn't woken up.

You placed one knee onto the seat, against his thigh. The seat was made for two, but his enormity meant there was barely any room for this. You straddled him with your thighs spread wide. God, the size of this man.

He could wake up at any moment and throw you across the bus or worse. He could probably do it even cuffed, you thought. But at this point, there was no turning back.

You wanted it too bad. As though physically possessed by the desire, nothing would stop you.

You had to feel him with your loins.

With your dress spread between your thighs, you lowered your crotch, and the front of your panties rubbed against his dick outline, making you shiver and erupt in goosebumps before you even came to rest on his warm, hard bulge.

Fuck, you were so wet.

You rubbed yourself up and down his stiff manhood and it made your clit throb and twitch, aching for relief. You grinded against him, bracing one hand on his shoulder, and groping your own breast with the other. Your breaths became heavy as pressure built in your belly. He twitched against your sensitive bundle of nerves and the tension burst, and pulsed, and released, echoing between your legs.You came as quietly as you could, your walks squeezing needily around nothing.

The last twitch of your hole was violent. It told you how bad you had to be filled.

You had to unzip him.

Above a white tank top and under a thin gold chain, his skin was littered with white scars and divots, scant chest hair–pepper with a little salt. Prison tattoos were barely visible through the thin, ribbed fabric. His middle was thick and strong, solid muscle padded by years of confinement.

As the zipper nearly reached his cock, you used both hands to pull on the fabric, trying to get it as far away from the skin as you could, trying to create space where there was none. You didn't want to hurt him. Didn't want to wake him up.

When you unzipped the rest of his suit, his cock bobbed even heavier than it looked.

You could hardly fathom the girth of what stood before you. There was no way you could wrap your hand around it. There was no way you could take it, could you?

There was no way you weren't going to try.

The fat, pink tip of his cock glistened with pre-cum. You gathered the ample saliva in your mouth, and brought your lips close to his cock. You were hit with a wave of his musk that nearly knocked you out, making your nipples hard and your jaw slack.

Next thing you knew, you were squatting between his feet. The ridged rubber flooring dug into the balls of your feet, with your legs folded neatly, making yourself compact between the seats. Your head bobbed forward and your lips engulfed his tip. You let it rest heavily on your tongue, appreciating the warm heft in your mouth. With a gentle suck, you took another inch into your mouth, feeling the crown of the head. Tonguing it. Then you tongued the slit, and the salty precum reminded you of your mission.

You held it in your mouth as saliva gathered in your mouth, then swirled your tongue around the cock head. You let it out of your mouth, connected by a string of spit, and drooled more spit onto it before swallowing and getting into position. You spread your saliva on his tip. Your panties were not a factor - the loose g-string was easily pulled to the side.

Back into straddling him, you held his shaft and almost had to squat with your bare feet on the seat instead of being on your knees to allow enough room for his cock between you. You rubbed his tip against your dripping entrance, up your slippery slit, and nudged your clit with it, then brought it back to your eagerly awaiting hole and lowered yourself. His cock slowly spread you open. The stretch burned and radiated outward - the wide tip seemed to occupy all of you already. But you let gravity take you down further, and really, you hadn't even taken the whole tip - was just the initial curve. Slowly sinking onto him, the stretch intensified as you accommodated the girth of his tip and bit your lip. It was an exhilarating feat.

There was going back.

It burned, but it burned so good. You might never feel this stretch again. You sank a little further onto him and failed to stifle a closed-mouth moan, “mmm.”

The burn became a buzzing tingle.

The exhilaration became a hunger for more, and you slid down his shaft like a miracle.

Jesus Christ, you'd never felt so full of anything. Your whole body was spread around him, all of your guts forced out of the way.

You went further still down his cock, taking more than you imagined anyone could fit. By the time you bottomed out, the burn subsided into a feeling that you were gripping him. Spread thin and tight around him, he wore you on his cock. Your walls hugged his shaft, and it throbbed. It throbbed inside you.

You sat there, reveling in the fullness with your watering eyes scanning his torso and beautiful skin. You ran your thumb lightly over two bullet wounds just above his pec and felt him swell inside you.

Oh fuck, He swelled, he grew. Making you fuller than full. He throbbed and twitched, and nudged something in your depths that made you whispered out loud, “Oh, Fuck.”

Oh, God, the fullness was something to behold in its own right. You could have sat like that all day. but he had nudged something else inside you, something you needed to pursue.

And when you tilted your hips, his shaft nudged it again. Something that twitched, something that spasmed, something that had you ready to trip over another edge and freefall into bilss.

You slowly rolled your hips, not letting much if any length out of your cunt. Your insides clung to him right and merely shifted inside yourself, as though you were a fleshlight. That movement inside yourself made enough tension, friction, and pressure to make you chase more release. You moved your hips, barely going up and down on his cock, taking the pleasure you needed. You took and you took from him. Slowly, you had your way, until the pressure was building to uncontainable heights. Your breaths were shallow, and you could hardly take it. You took a deep breath and tilted your head toward the ceiling.

You closed your eyes and relaxed as best you could, with your entire body tense at the edge of your climax.

His dick twitched again, and you saw stars.

Your cunt tightened around his cock as pleasure spasmed through your core, bursting from your

solar plexus. “Oh god,” you breathed, you held both your breasts as you bottomed out again and came on his cock in a series of spasms that seemed to last a full minute. Your body was hugging his massive manhood, possessing it, possessing him. Your bodies were joined so tight, like you were one. Your energy faded as the orgasm rode on.

Your body leaned toward his, your tits pointy through your damp dress, poking against his chest. Your nose brushed his mask, inhaling latex, and then…. your lips found the perfectly sculpted, white rubber of his. You pressed a kiss onto the mask’s distinctive top lip and a different shock spread through your chest. You opened your eyes as you pulled back, and your fingers went to lightly brush your your own lips. Still spread around his cock, you trembed with an aftershock. And just as your climax was ending, a low rumble came from his chest.

His pecs flexed, his body tensed, and your heart jumped. You tried to slide off his cock, but his hips shifted and his cock grew again, making you whimper. Just as your body had grown to accept his size, there was more of him to hold. He throbbed and twitched and grunted. Metal jingled behind his back and at the floor board as you panicked. He growled and moaned, foreboding a seismic eruption in your womb. His hips lifted out of the seat, pushing you up, and if you weren't anchored by his girth you might have flown off and hit the ceiling

Like nothing you’d ever felt, his cock throbbed massively as it shot monster ropes of cum into you, spurting rapid fire, every twitch of the organ felt by your walls, by your cervix. Something snapped and let go in your depths, slick gushed around his cock, providing just the lube you needed to slide yourself up. But before you were off his shaft, the cuffs snapped, and his massive hands flew to your shoulders, broken chains dangling as he held you down on his cock.

He grunted as he filled you up with his seed. Time seemed to stop, but the flow of cum didn’t. It felt he was cumming for so long, but with it possibly being the last moment of your waking life, you were no longer in a hurry for it to end.

A new fullness bloomed in your depths, different than the fullness of his cock. Higher, more spread out. Pressure mounted in your lower belly. More and more pressure with each burst, each massive rope. And then his happy trail, pressed against your lower belly. It tickled your, and you looked down to a sight that made your clit twitch and put butterflies in your chest. His happy trail wasn’t pressing into you. Your belly was pressing into him. Your dress curved outward in a new shape. Not massive, but noticeable. You lifted your dress out of the way to see your belly bloated and round, filling out against his body as he stuffed you with his cum. The pressure was overwhelming. It didn’t feel bad, but the effect on your body scared you.

“No more,” you begged, then realized the bursts ad weakened and he’d already slowed to a trickle. “What’s happening?” You asked, voice shaky.

No reply, but his hands tightened into a bruising grip on your arms when you tried to move. His breath was deep and ragged.

He slowly tilted his head, then looked down at your exposed bloated belly. He moved his hands to your hips and the cool metal of the broken cuffs grazed your hot flesh. You looked down at yourself again, mesmerized. Maybe the shape was exaggerated in this position and might even put once you stood up. It couldn’t have been that much cum. You were embarrassed, worried, shocked, but also turned on. Very turned on.

Your nipples were so hard they were sore. Your breasts heaved under your dress, and the sight of them gave you another wave of humiliation and arousal. You couldn’t be completely certain, but your breasts seemed to look fuller. It could be in your head, you thought. You had gained a few pounds, you told yourself. This just happened to be the first time you noticed. But a different part of you knew some people thought Michael wasn’t human, that he was something from beyond. He was simply the shape of pure evil. His strength was superhuman, and you wondered if his semen might be, too. It terrified you and made you throb.

Your cunt now comfortably hugged his cock, which was no less stiff tha n it had been before he came. You couldn’t be sure if his swelling had gone down or if your body had again adjusted, more elastic than you ever thought possible. Or at least, you hoped it was elasticity. The idea that he could have stretched you beyond repair would be devastating. You might never be full again.

Michael’s hips began to rock under you, and he lifted you effortlessly, slid you up his shaft. He bounced you and wielded you up and down his dick, steadily ramping up the pace until the wind was nearly knocked out of you. It was clear he was using you as a cocksleeve. Fucking up into it as he jacked himself off with your body. It was just a warm, wet tunnel for his cock. Your thighs quivered and your breasts and belly bounced. He held you like a toy, head tilted down, yearning to see your swollen body swallow his unfathomable size, if his view weren’t obstructed by the aftermath of his load. Your insides pulsed with pleasure, you began to gush again, and a third orgasm caught you off guard. He growled as it choked his cock and then he slammed you down hard and erupted once again.

“No,” you pleaded, and held your tummy with both hands. “I can’t, it won’t fit.” He didn’t stop, and why should he? You did this. You put yourself on his cock, you took from him and he was continuing to give. There was barely any time between each rope. The steady pulse of his cock made you swell a little more, overfilling you. Your skin tightened to contain your swelling womb. It was a pleasant stretch and one you had earned. You held your belly and watched it slowly grow as the modest orb bounced with each lift of his hips.

When he was finished, He just sat there, then he lifted you off his cock and put you aside, making you stand next to the seat. He turned to face you, with his legs in the aisle, and his cum-coated cock still out. He lifted your dress and bent forward to look between your legs.

As your body drew itself back together, warm cum ran down your thighs. He huffed. You held your belly, expecting it to shrink. If it did, it was gradual.

Michael reached between his feet and used his hands to break the shackle. He tucked himself away, turned up his collar, and took your face in his hands. His thumb brushed your cheek, then he turned to leave. His boots thumped heavily down the aisle as he slowly exited the bus. He walked off into the rain and didn’t look back.

The drip of cum slowed with your womb still full. You sat on a seat and spread your legs wide, and used your fingers to pull more cum out of you. You were so stretched out that you could use four fingers with no trouble at all. You could have fit your whole hand in, and tried, but the effort of bending to get a good angle left you out of breath.

After scraping as much cum as you could out, you tried putting pressure on your belly. First with your hands, then by bending forward so it was against your thighs. The swelling went down a little, but you were still distended and beginning to cramp.

You tried with fingers again and found you had already tightened up at least a little again, to your relief. You stood up to stretch and caught your reflection in the window. You didn’t look quite as big as you imagined. Not full term, at least, but you probably looked five or six months pregnant. You walked to the front of the bus to look at yourself in the rearview mirror. Turning to the side, you held the fabric to the shape of your belly. It wasn't that bad. You could live with this, until the swelling went down. At least you didn't have to walk around gaping.

Don't be too sad that he walks away, I HC that he could come back or find reader again 💙

If you enjoyed this, I have a ghostface fic with a similar situation and parts 1, 2, and 3 are my top 3 most popular fics ever. Every Inch

Thank you so much for reading! Please consider leaving a comment if you enjoyed it. Letting me know what you liked helps my future fics. 💙

#michael myers smut #michael myers x you #michael myers x reader #cw noncon #cw somnophilia #slasher smut #dark fic #darkfic #michael myers #michael myers fanfiction #toxicanonymity ☠️#shaperil #x reader #smut #dilf!michael myers #michael audrey myers

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thepencilnerd · 2 months ago

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Not Enough

"And I don't know how many people I've helped today, but I can tell you every other person who has died." pairing: Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x F!Doctor!Reader summary: Still in the thick of the hospital’s response to the mass casualty event, Robby is fracturing under the weight of it all. You’ve both seen too much. And tonight, it’s your turn to hold him together. warnings: descriptions of violence, blood, panic attacks, grief, mentions of death a/n: because this show has me in a chokehold and noah wyle at the end of 1x13 broke me. p.s. also check out my other Dr. Robby fics (And Through It All | Feels Like Trouble)

As soon as the mass email came, you rushed out from your apartment and sprinted to the hospital. The moments are seared into your memory—the trauma bay full of bodies, the sharp smell of iodine mixed with blood, a teenager’s hoodie torn open beneath your hands as you searched for the source of the bleeding.

You remember the small hand that slipped out of yours as the patient began coding.

The parents screaming for their children.

The quiet ones were somehow worse, never fully there but not all the way gone.

The muffled chaos from the pit beyond the glass door are the only real sounds. Alarms, voices—frantic and fatigued—bleed through in faint, distorted waves, like a war raging just out of reach. It’s distant, but not far enough to forget

You got the text while changing out of your blood-soaked scrubs, hands still trembling as you peeled the fabric away from your skin. It clings to you anyway—in your hair, your skin, the backs of your eyelids every time you blink. With blood still drying on your sleeves and the adrenaline long gone, you closed your eyes to breathe in a moment of quiet when your phone buzzes four times.

Hey I know you keep things quiet but Robby’s not okay.

He broke down in front of Jake.

He’s falling apart.

He needs you.

You find him in peds, cowering in the far corner like he’s trying to disappear. The room is cold—refrigerated, sterile—and smells faintly of antiseptic, sweat, and the awful tang of blood that never quite leaves. You recognize the scent of grief and aftermath of trauma hanging in the air like smoke.

One of the gurneys near the wall is still streaked with drying blood, its sheet half-pulled back like someone had to leave in a hurry. A pair of tiny shoes sits on a tray nearby, splotched red, forgotten, out of place, obscene in their stillness.

He’s on the floor, curled in on himself, arms wrapped tightly around his knees. He’s sobbing—ragged, uncontrollable, like something vital inside him has broken loose. His chest heaves as he tries and fails to breathe through it, and you can hear the panicked gasps, the wet hitch in his throat, the tremors rattling his whole body.

This isn’t just grief—it’s a full-blown panic attack. And he’s drowning in it.

He’s curled in tight, arms wrapped around his knees, body rocking slightly as if the motion might keep him from falling apart completely. His eyes are wide, but unfocused—bloodshot and glassy, locked somewhere far away. He’s still gasping, each breath too shallow, too fast. His hands are shaking violently, fingers digging into his own sleeves like he’s trying to anchor himself to the fabric.

You take a step closer, voice barely above a whisper. “Robby?”

His head jerks up at the sound of your voice, eyes wide and disoriented like he’s just surfaced from underwater. He blinks at you, breath still catching, and it takes a second for recognition to flicker through the haze.

“Did Dana call you?” he asks hoarsely.

“No,” you say softly, taking careful steps towards him. “She texted.”

He lets out a dry sound—not quite a laugh. "Figures."

You kneel beside him. The air is heavy, dense with everything he’s not saying yet. Slowly, you reach out and take one of his trembling hands in yours. His fingers twitch, then tighten, clinging to you like a lifeline. The squeeze is weak at first, then firmer—as if just the touch is enough to remind him he’s not alone in the dark.

He doesn't look like Dr. Robby right now—the sharp, fast-acting physician who can command a hospital with a glance and make impossible calls on the fly. The man beside you is just… a person. Shattered.

His scrubs are soaked in blood, some of it dried, none of it his. His hands tremble even after he’s wiped them down. You know that shake—adrenaline crash mixed with the sickening aftermath of decisions no one should ever have to make.

You bring your other hand to his back, rubbing slow, steady circles between his shoulder blades. "You're safe," you whisper. "Just breathe with me. In... and out." His breath still stutters, but he tries. His chest jerks with the effort of each inhale, panic still lodged deep in his lungs.

For a moment, it feels like he’s not hearing you at all. But then you feel it—his shoulders drop just slightly beneath your touch, his grip on your hand loosens just enough to shift from desperation to something like trust. His sobs taper to ragged exhales. He's still shaking, still barely holding on, but he's with you now. He’s coming back to himself.

“I lost five people today,” he says finally, like he’s reciting a number that won’t stop ringing in his head. “Two of them were kids.”

You don’t speak. You don’t interject. You just let him have the space.

“I did everything right. We all did. We didn’t waste a single second. And they still died. Just like that.” His voice cracks on the last word. He runs a hand down his face, leaving a smear of something—blood or ink, you're not sure.

“I keep telling myself to focus on the ones we saved,” he whispers. “To hold onto the lives, not the losses. But tonight… all I can see are the family members I had to talk to. The look in that mom’s eyes when I said her daughter was gone. It’s like it burned into me. I can’t shake it.”

He looks at you finally, eyes rimmed red and glassy. “I save so many people. I do. I know that. But tonight it’s like… all I can see are the ones I didn’t.”

You press your hand gently to the side of his cheek, grounding him. As he closes his eyes and leans into your touch, a stray tear that paints his cheek. “You were there for them, Robby. You did everything you possibly could. I know that. The entire team knows that.”

His eyes flick to you, glassy and raw. "But it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough. I'll never be enough."

That’s what really guts you—the way he says it. Quiet. Final. Like the math has been done and he’s come up short. Not loudly. Not violently. Just quietly, steadily. Like something that’s been held in too long, finally slipping free.

“You are,” you say fiercely. “You are more than enough. You gave everything. That's what matters.”

He drops his forehead to your shoulder. For a long moment, the only sound in the room is his breathing—ragged, uneven. Then, finally, it breaks. Quiet tears. No theatrics. Just silent devastation.

You wrap your arms around him, holding him like you’re trying to piece him back together. His body is wracked with sobs, shaking so hard it rattles through your chest. You feel it all—his heartbreak, his helplessness, the unbearable grief pulsing through him like a second heartbeat. Your own chest aches with the weight of it.

You tighten your hold, one hand cradling the back of his head as he buries his face into your shoulder. His breath stutters against your neck, gasping and uneven, but your presence anchors him. You stay that way, silent and steady, letting him feel it all—letting him fall apart without judgment, letting him not be strong for once.

"I told Jake I'd remember Leah long after he'd forgotten her..." he murmurs, voice frayed and trembling at the edges.

You pause, letting the silence stretch—just long enough to breathe, to feel the weight of his words settle between you. Then you speak, quiet but steady.

"Because you will," you say simply. "People grieve and learn to move on. But we don’t forget. We carry them with us—all the lives we've lost, every person we've watched die, every moment we felt helpless. The weight of it doesn't go away, Robby. It just shifts. Becomes part of who we are. The feeling that no matter what we did, we could've done better, the guilt that eats you up inside and lives with you... we learn to live with it. Not around it. Not despite it. And you're not alone in that."

Robby doesn’t speak right away. He swallows hard, jaw clenched, eyes squeezed shut as though he’s trying to keep it together—at least, whatever little there’s left to hold. When he finally pulls back and looks at you, it’s with a kind of desperation that threatens to swallow you whole.

“I don’t want to live with it,” he admits, voice wrecked. “I want to forget it. I want to go back and do something—anything—to save them.”

You nod, gently brushing your thumb along his cheek. “I know. But we can’t go back. All we can do is keep showing up, even when it breaks us. And let the people around us help carry the weight.”

“I don’t know how,” he murmurs. “All of this pain, this loss—it’s too much.”

“You don’t have to carry it alone,” you whisper. “Not tonight—not ever.”

And for the first time all day, he lets himself believe that.

#the pitt #the pitt hbo #the pitt x reader #the pitt fanfiction #dr. robby #michael robinavitch #dr robby x reader #michael robinavitch x reader #noah wyle #dr robby imagine #the pitt spoilers #dr. robby x reader #dr robby x you #the pitt imagine #the pitt 1×13

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cwwv9 · 25 days ago

Text

«Child in the shower, disaster in life»

— Without gender!Children's!Reader x Isagi Yoichi, Meguro Bachira, Hiori Yo, Karasu Tabio, Chigiri Hyoma, Michael Keiser, Alexis Ness, Rin Itoshi, Sae Itoshi, Shidou Ryusei.

Genre: casual, romantic subtext, fluff, a little thrash

Warning: The text is the maximum amount of absurdity, folly and unexplained logic that exists in people whose inner child has never grown. The reader is a walking natural disaster with the soul of a child who rejoices at frogs, plays pranks, falls into ridiculous situations and invariably draws characters into chaos.

Note: I didn’t plan to go down like this, but my powers failed. I still don’t feel very well, but I will try to get myself together this weekend. I actually thought about trying "fem! character x reader" coming soon, do you think it’s a good idea?

wrote it exclusively for your smile, enjoy reading!

Isagi Yoichi

- Yoichi! - you’re screaming from the other end of the field, waving your hands.

He just finished training, wiping sweat off his forehead when you run to him, hiding something behind your back. He immediately gets excited. Your smile is wider than that of a horror maniac, and your eyes are burning with excitement.

- I’ve got a surprise for you! - You put both hands in front of him, clenching your fists. - Do you want to see?

Yoichi looks at the coach in the distance, then again at you. He had already been caught in "surprises" like a pie in the face, a shocking beetle and one very suspicious candy from which his tongue was green all day.

- Is it safe? he squints. I won’t have to eat porridge through a tube for another week?

You’re not happy.

- I’m serious! That’s nice! Really. Honest. Well... almost.

- "Almost" is already suspicious.

You can’t hold it and you want to, your chest tickles with impatience. Finally you breathe out:

-Okay, all right, you ready?

-No, - Yoichi says dryly, but he’s already leaning closer.

Your hands are wide open.

A small, living, grey frog jumps out of them.

- WOW! - Yoichi yells, bouncing back, almost stumbling over his own boots.

You fold in half from laughing. You fall on the grass, holding your stomach, and the frog jumps aside, shocked by what is happening.

- DID YOU SEE YOUR FACE?! - Yell through tears. - God, I would frame this!

Yoichi is breathing hard. His hand on his knee, his face distorted by a mixture of horror and laughter. He throws a murderous look at you, but the eyes already appear tired, but warm "of course".

- Why am I still surprised when you do that? - He sighs, helping you up. - How old are you? Five?

- Six and a half, thank you.

You walk beside him, touching him while he’s walking.

- And the frog was jumping, huh? Just like in a cartoon! We still have to find one. Or maybe we can have an aquarium at home, huh? And there’s frogs and bugs. And mice are allowed.

- Mouse?.. - Yoichi stops. - No. No, please. We and one of you are enough for chaos.

You throw yourself at him and cling to his hand, slightly pressing your cheek against his, feeling his warmth.

- Admit it, you liked it!

He sighs. And here is the most sincere smile of the day on his face. He looks at you as if you were a natural disaster, which is impossible not to love.

- Yes, he says, rubbing your top gently, you’re a total lunatic. But mine.

Meguro Bachira

— We only take macarons, okay? Ma-ka-ro-ne - Bachira leans towards you, clinging to the importance as if you’re a spy on a top secret mission. - No step left, no look right. Only. Pasta.

You nod with a face like you get it, but in three seconds you’re already crawling along the windows, stretching your neck and your eyes picking up shiny boxes, rustling packaging and... toy department.

- Bachira! Look! Look-look-look! - you suddenly disappear from view and burst into toy paradise like a tornado.

He follows you, of course. He always comes after you - no matter how much he sighs. Because he knows: where you are, it will be either fun or dangerous. And more often both.

You’re already squeezing the breast of a plush cat. Pumpkin on the head, tail with glitter. Too bright, too ugly... and definitely your favorite for the next three days.

- He FARTS, - you proudly declare by pressing on his stomach. And indeed, something... sinister-breathing is being pulled out of the speaker.

Bachira blinks.

- What is he?

You press again. The cat makes another moist sound.

You’re laughing so hard, you almost fell.

- It’s fate! He talks to us in my native language!

Bachira picks up the toy, turns in her hands. She croaks. But then he looks at you - you’re shining like a midnight firework, holding that vile thing like a shrine.

-Okay... add to your collection, - he sighs. - seventy-one. We have a shelf to change.

You jump for joy and kick like a little child.

- I’ll call him Puffy. He’ll guard the bed from monsters!

-From me, I guess.

- He’ll let you in. I swear!

He laughs quietly, pushing you closer as you go to the cash register. And, hell with macarons.

Hiori Yo

It was a hot day, too hot. The sun was burning your neck, and you were running around the yard with a water gun like an apocalyptic gremlin. Behind the bush - ambush, on the tree - base, and in your hand - weapons of mass destruction.

- Hiiori! - you scream with a belligerent squeal. - GET READY TO SWIM, DEEP-SEA SHRIMP!

He only carries out a towel and a bottle of water, as if the jet is flying into him - direct, precise, straight into his chest. He doesn’t even have time to breathe as you’re already running up and kicking your feet in place.

- Hit! Right in the heart! Critical damage!

- You said, "You’re not shooting today," - Hiori breathes hard as she squeezes out her shirt. - That was a lie.

- I forgot, honestly! you say with a big smile. But you’re too much of a target. I couldn’t resist.

He nods, calmly and with restraint. He goes into the house... suspiciously calm.

In five minutes he comes out. He’s holding a plastic bottle of coke.

- Peace? he asks, holding it out.

You smile like you’ve never done anything wrong in your life, grab a bottle.

- Of course, the world! Drink me! - You turn the lid off quickly.

PSHCHHHH!

You forget that you yourself have shaken this bottle before as a "time bomb". Cola shoots the fountain - in the face, on the T-shirt, on the arms. You reflexively put the bottle to your mouth, trying to "save" the drink, but with laughter you get nervous, let out a fountain from your mouth and literally sprinkle Hiori with a sweet soda.

He stands. Impregnated. Sticky. With pieces of ice under his sock.

- It... was... he says slowly, looking at himself.

You’re already lying on the ground, hovering like a madman. You’re dripping with water, looking like a flared firecracker in cotton candy.

- THAT WAS GENIUS! - you squeal. - Hiori! It was a self-destruct attack! You should have seen your face!

He looks at you... then just sits quietly next to you. Takes a newspaper that is lying nearby, and puts it on his face.

- You’re like a child, he mumbles, but the corners of his lips are still shaking with a smile. - Absolutely uncontrollable.

You roll closer and squeeze to his side like a wet puppy. Licking his shoulder, which was in the ruts of coca cola. He sighs but does not repel.

- You still love me, don’t you?

- Hardly. And in the breaks between washing, he snorts.

And yet his hand gently rests on your head. As if to say: "yes, I love. Even with sticky hair and water gun".

Karasu Tobio

You were unpredictable. Like the weather in April. Or like a machine with toys, which instead of a rubber ball gives out a dead crab.

Today started well. Karasu led you around the mall by the hand like a child, so that you didn’t get lost and run off to the station with fluffy slippers.

But suddenly you got out of control and rushed to a group of serious, solid men at the coffee shop. On the go opening the tablet.

- YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS! - Loud, too loud.

Karasu stalled. His face was stretched out like a dough in a pizza.

- No. Not again.

You run to the men and with a solemn look put in the face of the screen: where the wife is sad and the child spanch bob, and the panch bob was already lying in the grave.

— Sad, right?! Hahahaha! The baby spanch bob is crying so bitterly, with comments saying that he’s already an orphan! because mom left in a man.. - Do you ask, leaning towards one of the men. - Is this for you?

They don’t talk. One of them already has his phone. The other is coughing and looking at you like you’re infected with something dangerous.

- It’s... not funny, young man - frown alone. - Where are your parents?

- I... - You look back. - I’m with him!

And Karasu, as in slow motion, runs up, grabs you under his arm like a sack of potatoes, and looks tired guard drags you aside.

- Are you BACK? he hisses. - You promised not to traumatize strangers with the strange pictures you made.

- But there’s Sponge Bob, with a beard! He LOOKS AT THE SOUL, Tobias! It’s art! You don’t understand anything! - you scream, your feet are wagging.

He stops, puts you on the ground and grabs your face.

- I can’t do it anymore. I need pills. I need a lawyer. I need... a psychotherapist to learn how to live with you.

You smile and throw yourself at his neck.

-But you love me, right?

- I’m guarding you, that’s different.

- Okay. But I still have a picture of a pigeon with the face of a grandfather saying, "Give back your pension". We show it in the bookstore?

Karasu rolls his eyes.

- Only if I sign up first.

Chigiri Hyoma

- Hyoma! Hyoma! Come here now! - you’re breaking into the room where Chigiri was quietly drinking tea and trying to breathe.

He does not even have time to turn his head - you have already grabbed him by the wrist, hold him like a raging tornado, and loudly, with encouragement you are saying:

- I’ve made a DISCOVERY! Scientific! Medical! I’m a genius! You’ll be the first to try it!

– It won’t be like last time, right? - Chigiri asks anxiously, remembering the case when you smeared his nose with honey "so that a raspberry grows on it". Or when you tried to "tame" the microwave, saying «Jars, beasts, jars».

- It’s DIFFERENT. You’ll have a mustache. Serious ones. I tested on a stuffed hippo, and it looks solid!

Before Chigiri could do anything - click, you pressed two fluffy black things to his face, and on top of that you put a hairspray, super glue and for some reason a bun-smelling perfume.

- That’s it! - you exhilaratingly scream. - Now you are... General Hyomka! You have a new personality! Walk, command, go!

Chigiri is looking at himself in the mirror in complete shock. He has a huge, ridiculous mustache - one side bent up, the other dangles like a sad worm. And it’s not coming off.

- ... you ruined me. I’m like a bad guy from a cartoon about potatoes.

You clap your hands:

– That’s right! UskKom 3000! I create personalities! I can give you a cape, and you will interrogate plush toys. Someone has to keep order in the house!

He’s dead.

- You... put something on my face. REAL GLUE?

You nod. Proud. Happy. Absolutely no remorse.

- Not to fall. Stability is the foundation of leadership.

Pause. He turns around, slowly goes into the bath, and in a few seconds you hear:

- I’m going to shrivel my face, I’m going to get smoother than walk with this!

You’re giggling on the floor.

- General Hyomka against the innovations... Too bad.

And you already take out of your pocket the spare kit... with eyebrows-nuts.

Michael Kaiser

You burst into a room with a homemade helmet out of a cereal box strapped to the head of a pot, and proudly say:

- Today we’re going to Mars to save my son!

Kaiser doesn’t even lift an eye from his phone.

-You don’t have a son.

- I have one. It’s a plush toad named Herman. It was stolen by the evil cucumbers from Jupiter. You don’t want Herman to become a salad, do you?

He sighs. Very slowly.

-Is it because you drank ketchup and coke?

- It’s because I’m a great space traveler! King of the Clouds, Lord Lugh and Count Ploppi!

The Kaiser is still watching. And for a long time.

You wave your pawn like a scepter, and pull out from behind... a folded map (actually a pizza flyer) with the pen reading: «HERE IS MARS».

- We’re leaving in five minutes. Get your toothbrush, it’s gonna be a long battle!

- I’m not going to Mars.

- Then Herman dies.

- It’s a toy toad you left in the oven.

You are offended:

- It was a bunker!

- There was lasagna.

- Herman loves lasagna...

You lower your head. Sad, theatrical. It’s time for you to go to Cannes for this drama.

Kaiser rolls his eyes.

- Where’s your spaceship?

You pull out a mop and a stool.

- Get ready for the acceleration, princess. We’re going to hell.

Ten minutes later, the Kaiser, still in his pajamas, sitting on a stool, holding a broom and watching you yell in a bucket: "Open the portal! Herman, hold on, Daddy’s flying!"

- That’s... - He exhales. - It’s worse than when you tried to give me a jam shot.

You giggle and kiss his cheek.

- Thank you, you saved the planet. Herman will be proud.

- I hope he chokes on lasagna.

You make a sullen face, then you spit on his knees.

- And Herman wants a brother. Do you mind if I get a snail?

- As long as she stays silent and doesn’t burn the microwave like your "dragon".

Alexis Ness

- Look, look, look! - you yell from a distance and fly down the sloped gravel path on a skate, waving your hands as if trying to get off the ground.

Ness is sitting on the blanket, just started to turn out the container with fruits, as notices your death flight.

- NO! he screams, leaping on his feet. - Not on the grass! Not through the tree! Not in the

BACH.

Skate rolls by. And you - fly right into it, carrying Ness and container with watermelons in the bushes.

You’re lying on top of it, happy as a clam.

-Did you see? I was almost in the trenches! A little bit more, and I’d have a world record. I had a real backflip going on in my head, honestly.

Ness is looking up at the sky. He’s trying to remember how to breathe.

- You’re in my head right now spinning funeral.

You sigh as you leap:

- Okay, okay, this is going to be really cool. I found a log! You can slide it on your belly like a snowboard. I called it the Thunder-2000.

- It’s... a regular log.

- But if you believe - it’s a real miracle

Ness comes up, shaking, and mumbles:

- I just wanted to eat cherries and sit in silence...

And you’re already climbing up on the log, clinging to it like it’s a giant carrot, and yelling,

- Look! It’s like "Forsag", but cheap and with bumps!

And you go. The log rolls down the hill, you squeal like a teapot, your legs are wobbly, your face in the leaves. At some point you just fall, roll over and get up with a mossy forehead and a happy smile.

- I’m alive! My ass - no, but I’m alive!

Ness comes in, grabs your wrist, checking your pulse.

- I had to sign a paper saying that I was responsible for you? Where is my legal team?.

You hug him by hanging him around your neck.

— You are my little insurance agent. And now... for the shish kebabs! - you point to the mangal, who unskillfully burned himself. And that at this moment begins to smoke suspiciously bright.

- No-no-no! - in a panic, Ness yells and runs to kill.

And you, in a fire of coal and memories, sit with the guitar and start yelling something about skateboards and love for frogs.

He already knows: the day is just beginning.

Rin Itoshi

Rin opened the door and before he could even breathe, you flew into the hallway, all wet, dirty, with hair sticking out in different directions and a bright smile on your face. On the cheek - a heart, painted, seems to be chalk, on the jacket - a mark of a boot, on the hand -... a plastic spoon?

- Rinn! I drew you on the asphalt! Only... a bit like a crab. But it was you, I remember!

You have removed from the pocket a handful of colored chalks, behind which there was immediately smeared wet grass, petals and paper from the gum with the princess.

Rin blinked.

-Why are you all wet?

You proudly raised your finger:

- Because it rained!

- And you thought that was a... reason to go outside and...?

— Dancing, drawing, catching sparrows, jumping into a puddle, competing with the child who throws the next stone... Well, I also saw a butterfly! - You put your hands on it. - I wanted to show her the peacock dance, but she flew away. Rude.

Rin pressed his palm to his face.

-And how are you... still alive?

You smiled joyfully:

- It’s because I have a strong spirit. And you also gave me vitamins, remember?

- You’ve been cold for a week. Your spit was only yesterday.

- But it was fun!

The next morning you woke up with a nose like a tomato. Walked around the apartment with a roll of toilet paper, breathed like Darth Vader and resented:

- Why is everything leaking?! I have a hole in my brain?

Rin sat at the table, eating his boring, proper breakfast and looking at you like a disaster on a natural scale.

- And I said it. Dancing in the rain is romantic until you become a slut.

You, with your nose full, tried to turn gracefully. You almost fell. You shrunk. You cried.

- I’ll go again anyway. The neighbor’s cat gave birth, I have to name the kittens. One will be Pelmeni.

Rin sighed.

- I give up. Next time just take an umbrella. And wear a hat. And... maybe don’t lick the puddles?

- It was an experiment, Rin!

He put the fork down.

- I still don’t understand why I’m with you.

You sat next to him, nodded at him and moaned through the snot:

- Because I’m beautiful.

- Because you’re a disaster, said Rin.

And I still moved the cup of tea closer to you.

Sae Itoshi

You’re standing in a perfectly white room, glowing with delight, holding a glass of soda and candy on a stick. You were dressed in decent clothes, combed your hair and even put on a bow tie that does not suit you at all, and which you tried several times removed, but as a result of Itosha each time clapped his hands and corrected him, And in the opinion of Sae, it makes you look like a decent man.

The event was important: a bunch of rich and famous people, social conversations, shiny dresses and veiled insults.

You did it.

And then I noticed a lady in a lush skirt, whose bow was slightly crooked.

You came close.

- Do you have lace?

She blinked:

- Excuse me?

- Well panties! With ruffles! I saw it. They’re so funny! Like a cupcake, honestly!

And - hop - the skirt flies. Woman screams. Someone drops a glass. Journalist turns camera.

And you - run away, drooling in your own laughter, like a goose on rollers.

- Yes! - you scream, just seeing him.

He has already squinted. He sees you rushing through the whole hall, behind you - a guard, behind him - a woman with a hat and the expression «call court».

You run into the Sae and hide behind him.

- Can you tell me it was me? Well, I guess.

- You were literally shouting, I’m a hero, I’ll see all the panties» before that - weary, he burkes, catching you by the hood like a coddling cat.

You’re putting candy in your mouth.

- But they were beautiful. I just wanted to praise them. That’s kindness, Sae.

- You’re a nightmare in patent shoes. We just got here, and it’s time to run.

— Can I get one more lady? She’s got a marshmallow skirt! - talking to the girl next to him, starting to squiggle to try to look under his skirt, but he is lifted up behind his jacket on time

- No. I’m going to put it on your head.

- You’d be a beautiful girl, Saé. I’d lift your skirt too, honestly.

He stares at the ceiling as if to ask for power from heaven. Or a new brain. Himself. Or you.

-Why am I with you?

- Because you love me, - you’re snorting, looking over his shoulder. - And because you can’t turn me in!

- You’re terrible.

But still takes you by the hand and pulls you away from the light, the cameras and the women in skirts.

- The next event is only if you’re wearing a straitjacket, okay?

You were wondering.

- And the bow is with the lace?.

Ryusei Shido

- Bro, brooo, there’s a frog path! - your voice is on the other side of the bush and Shido already suspects something’s wrong.

He takes his head off the phone where he tries to make a funny selfie with a pitcher, and comes out from behind the trees - only to find you kneeling in the green mud with your hands outstretched forward and your eyes shining with happiness.

- Really? Did you fall into the radiation?

- No! It’s a secret place. I called it the Kwa-kva-park. Look at all the frogs!

- It’s a swamp. And they may be guarding you as the new king, he snorts as he approaches. Get to shore before the toads grow wings.

You want to, you’re spitting on the surface and suddenly you’re lifting something.

- It’s an ancient sword of the swamp knights! you scream, showing Shido just a stick.

He laughs, comes up close and says:

- Give me this, I’ll show you the «double rotating hummingbird cam». Watch carefully, little one, it will be-

Plum.

You grab his wrist and pull him down.

- SURPRISE!!! - you yell.

Shido has only time to curse, before falling close by, the splashes are flying in the sides, the birds break from the trees, and the silence of the forest is broken by a deafening slap.

You both come out. Shido has algae on his head, and you have a snail on your shoulder that you now call an alter.

- I’ll KILL YOU,' says Shido with a hoarse laugh, wiping out his eyes. 'I look like a salad!

You’re snorting in the swamp, completely satisfied.

- We’re a team of swamp rage now. We’ll save the world with frogs and clay. We’ll even have a logo!

Shido looks at you, then at himself, then at you again. The smile is getting wider.

- Damn, you’re contagious. Let’s go again. But this time I’m the first one.

You jump into the swamp together, screaming and laughing while the world sinks in mud and happiness.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk x you #bllk #blue lock x gender neutral reader #isagi yoichi x reader #bachira meguru x reader #hiori yo x reader #karasu x reader #chigiri hyoma x reader #michael kaiser x reader #alexis ness x reader #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi sae x reader #ryusei shidou x reader

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littlemissmiller · 7 months ago

Text

Bird in a Cage

Part 4: Under His Spell

Pairing: dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

Summary: You’ve been Coriolanus’s guest for a while now, yet you still feel drawn to him rather than wanting to escape. One evening after you express how much you miss your family, Coriolanus decides to get your mind off things and shows off his lab.

Word count: 3.4k

Warning: 21+ (use of drugs), mentions of smut, non-con, degeneration, nicknames(slut, good girl), mentions of oral (f! receiving), use of aphrodisiacs, stalking, possession, dark themes, toxic themes, kidnapping

A/N: omg…I can’t believe i’m back to posting. i can’t believe y’all are still reading and some have been waiting a while for an update on anything so…here. this series is will be finished first before i get to Summer Highs and everything else i promised. it’s been such a struggle since i last put anything out, and im still working on feeling mentally better, but i do want to get back into writing. i hope you guys enjoy this and my suggestions are still open. i’m also welcoming any ideas for Summer Highs or a Joel fic and i may start writing for Nicholas Alexander Chavez 👀 so stayed tuned ♥︎

P.S. this was inspired by the Michael’s crafts white Halloween decor so iykyk

Series Masterlist

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After that morning, you felt different. Different about him and to a certain extent, the circumstances that brought you here.

Over the next two weeks, you slowly give up on your plans to escape. Seeing as you were under constant guard and his own watchful eye, escape felt impossible and eventually your family had been told that President Snow was hosting people near his palace as The Games approach. And somehow his web of lies worked. You still hadn’t seen them and you were starting to miss them dearly.

Coriolanus notices and does his absolute best to distract you. He sets up modeling gigs for you during most of the week, then he starts to pamper you. Every night treating you to the most scrumptious meals and the most relaxing baths. He starts to dress you more often, making sure to adorn you in the finest silk, cashmere, cotton and jewelry Panem has. He makes sure you get plenty of sleep and makes sure that the modeling gigs keep you front and center in the fashion magazines. This is all you could have dreamed of. You fall under his spell, yet the idea of freedom lingers in your mind. At the same time, it seems to miraculously fade away the moment he lays you down on his bed. In addition to luxurious treatment, Coriolanus knew how to take a woman to bed. His tongue was a drug, his mouth, a vice. He would lay you on your back, spread your legs and spend hours pleasing you. He loves your taste. Slightly bitter, but oh so sweet. He would take his time, dancing his tongue against your folds and diving into your cunt. He loves to make you moan and squeal.

Coriolanus always makes sure you let it out. He wants the whole palace to hear how good he makes you feel. He would hold you down, sometimes tie your wrists to the bed. He loves the power he holds over you, and loves seeing you bare on his bed. And you were starting to look forward to him inviting you into his room every evening. Your core was always throbbing for him, wanting to feel his full length buried deep inside you. He loved to feel your tight warmth, he loved how you clenched and gripped him. He loved how your face scrunched up, distorted from feeling so good. He would sometimes plunge a finger or two into your mouth, making you suck on them while he picks up the pace. His hips slamming into you as he commanded you to degrade yourself.

“Tell me you’re a good little slut.”

“I’m a good little slut, sir.”

He liked when you called him that. Even though he told you to call him Coriolanus, in the bedroom he required Mr. President or Sir.

“Tell me how good it feels.”

“Your cock feels so good Mr. President. So so good”

“Good girl”

One night at dinner, you stare thoughtfully at the young blonde and take small sips of your Gazpacho. Coriolanus notices and stops eating. You raise and eyebrow at him.

“Sir…?” You question. He looks up at you. “Coriolanus.” You correct yourself and he smiles

“What’s wrong my dear?”

“N-n-nothing is wrong. I just have something on my mind”

“Well…tell me.” He demands

“It’s just…it’s been a while since I’ve seen my family…I’ve been missing them.”

“I bet you have, but my darling…” he holds out his hand and you take it “Not quite yet…” he tells you, giving you a playful smile.

“When though…I feel like they must be worried about me and I just want- “

Coriolanus’s face drops and he gives you a stern look, squeezing your hand. You whine at the pain.

“Watch it, my dear…you are getting ahead of yourself now. You have been so good for me. Do not mess it up.”

“But I just want- “

“It’s not about what you want. Don’t you understand?”

Your heart sinks and eyes well with tears. You want to cry but won’t in front of him. You won’t show that weakness. You collect yourself quickly and nod.

“Yes, sir.”

“You’ll be able to see them again. When I think you’re ready. Am I clear?”

You nod your head and look down in your lap. He clears his throat, and you look back up at him.

“I said, am I clear?”

“Yes sir” you quip up.

“Good girl. I have something to show you after dinner.”

“I look forward to it” you tremble slightly as you say it.

After dinner, he stands up and walks next to you, holding out his hand.

“I want you to follow me.”

You nod and obey. He holds your hand, guides you up and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a silk black blindfold and smiles. Without a word, you turn around and he places it over your eyes.

“I’ve noticed how your eyes wander whenever we walk through the palace. I’ve seen eyes like that before. And they always leave me. Or try to. I’m not ready to let you go quite yet and I really don’t want to have to punish you if you have any ideas.”

“I-“

“You don’t have to explain yourself. I can tell you’re wanting to settle in. But I see your eyes. And how they linger and plot.”

“I-I’m sorry…it’s just my family, my life, everything has slipped away from me.”

Then you feel his firm grip wrap under your chin. He pulls you against his chest and nestles his face in the crook of your neck. He places a delicate kiss under your chin then whispers in your ear.

“My darling, I know you surely miss the life you had, but have I not shown you enough of what this life offers. Are you not satisfied with what I’ve given you? What more I could give. I’ll always take care of you. Don’t you want that?”

You sigh and nod almost unconsciously. You’re completely under his trance.

“Good. Now come with me.”

He takes your hand, guiding you through the palace. You intensely listen to the clapping of your collective footsteps as you pace down the hall. After a few moments the air grows cold and quiet. You hear an old iron door creek open, then slam shut as you both walk inside. Coriolanus steps behind you and takes off your blindfold. You blink and look around. The room is ghostly white, as if it’s been draped in old sheets. A chill crawls down your spine and Coriolanus soaks in your look of terror and confusion. As you look around the room, you notice a variety of statues and decor. It almost looks like it could be a dungeon or a crypt.

“What is this place?”

“This is my lab. I’m quite fond of experimenting.”

“Experimenting?”

“A habit from my school days. I used to study under Dr. Volumnia Gaul. She would always have something new she was working on. Especially during the Hunger Games season.”

“Oh-“ you gasp

He pauses and watches you as you walk around the room. You are immediately drawn to the back where a tall statue of a woman sitting, draped in a veil, and holding a skull. You recognize the stone as marble, feeling haunted by its stillness. At the base lies a bouquet of faded pink flowers, not quite as white as the ones in the garden. These flowers almost look dead, but still have a bit of life left. Next to her, a row of glass cabinets. You glance at them and inside is a variety of test tubes, flasks, and cylinders. Upon a closer look, some of the test tubes are filled up with what appears to be crystals, rocks, some mushrooms, butterfly wings, spider legs, and other dead bugs. You grimace and look away. Next to the tubes are a variety of silver tools hung up on the wall. A variety of scissors, knives, and scapulas, which are all polished and reflect back at you.

You turn around and look at the other side of the room. Another statue stands tall. Another veiled woman, like a bride, holding out her own stone bouquet. At her base, a skull with a snake weaving out of the eye socket and through the mouth. Feeling slightly terrified, you look away and immediately your eyes fall upon the shelves littered with small animal bones, skulls, more jars of dead insects, gems, jewelry, and coins. Everything seems to have its place. Then you glance over to Coriolanus, standing as still as the statues. He watches you intensely with a sly smile across his face.

“Why did you bring me here?”

Without a word, he walks over to one of his glass cases and opens it. He pulls out a small vial filled with a dark red liquid.

“I have a new concoction. I made my first sample yesterday.” He holds the vial up delicately in his hand.

Your eyes widen and you give him a puzzling look.

“What is it?”

“Well based on the ingredients, a wave of euphoria, a calming sensation throughout your whole body. Similar to the chocolate I gave you, but more long lasting and with a bit more visuals…”

“Visuals?” You question

“Yes, normal everyday things may look more interesting, more intense. You’ll be fine of course. I’ll be hear, watching after you.”

“W-why do you want me to try?”

“Because, I think you’d like this. It heightens your sensations in a way I think will be good for you….”

“So you’re using me as a test subject.”

“No. I always try it on myself first if I can, and then…I like to share.”

“And what happens if I say…no…” you hesitate

He looks at you with confusion, striding over to you. His eyes never leave your own as a chill creeps down your spine. He pauses, his face inches away from your own. He tucks a hair behind your ear and kisses you gently. He pulls back, hand caressing your chin.

“Then you say no…” he kisses you again quickly. He holds the vial up to you, looking at it like it’s a delicious treat. You look at him then the vial. In a moment of pure impulse, you take it from his fingers. He abruptly turns to face you, and you make full eye contact with him, sipping the red liquid. The taste is so strong, and warm. As it slides down your throat it almost burns your esophagus like acid and you hold back a cough. He gazes upon you in awe, smirking at you, eyeing you

“Good girl”

“H-how long until the effects kick in?”

“About thirty to forty five minutes. We will stay here for now.”

You nod and slowly lean into his lips. This time you kiss him. It’s slow, graceful, and unexpected. Coriolanus revels in it, he loves that you are starting to love him back. He chuckles to himself and pulls back.

“I love when you kiss me and mean it. I love that you want me.”

“It comforts me in a way. To have formed a relationship with you. Even though you…you..”

“Stole you away?” He finishes your sentence

You nod and look away. He grabs your chin and forces you to look at him.

“But you’ve seen what I can offer you. Haven’t you. You can’t resist it. You can’t resist me. Can you?”

You nod slowly as he captures your lips in a fierce manner. You can barely breathe as his lips move against yours. You welcome it all the same. His aggression. His passion. He wants to consume you. Own you. And he does.

“You love it…don’t you..”

“Y-Y-yes, this has truly been the most luxurious and cared for I’ve felt in my life.”

“Good, as it should be.” He resumes his lips, consuming your own. You and him stay like this for a while. Passionately clinging to each other's lips. His hands move to clutch your hips and he eventually pulls back again to look at you.

“How do you feel?”

You take a moment to look at your surroundings. Things feel normal. Until they don’t. The room looks different. The lights feel more intense, and then when you stare too long, things begin to swirl. Only slightly. Only enough to make you intrigued by what was seemingly normal surroundings. Everything has become the most interesting thing that you could look at right now. As you continue to look around the room, looking at the various glass cabinets, lab experiments, everything, even the statues, seems to move. As if they are growing and swirling in the space around you. Time feels like it slows down and your immediate reaction is to smile at it all. Something about the way the room moves makes you giggle, and feel light.

“Good” you nod

“You’re starting to feel the effects aren’t you”

“I-I think so yes…”

“Good. It made me feel curious. Do you feel curious?”

You nod and he grabs your chin again.

“Speak up”

“Yes, Coriolanus, it makes me feel good. I feel curious as well.”

“Let me give you a tour of the lab now that you’re in the right mindset.”

He takes your hand and walks you around his lab. He tells you about the various experiments, tools, and ingredients that he uses. Even in this state, you can see how passionate he is. How much he enjoys talking about this side of himself, sharing it with you specifically. And just as he told you, you do find yourself curious in a new way under the influence of the concoction. Everything that you observe feels as though it has its own personality and yet somehow it’s all connected to the other experiments and the whole room. You can’t really explain it.

Then he takes you over to another set of cabinets. Only this time. They are locked behind an iron cage, painted white to match everything else in the room. He pulls a key from his pocket. Coriolanus unlocks the cabinet and behind the doors are rows and rows of vials similar to the one that he showed you, except each one is labeled differently. They are all different colors as well, ranging from red to purple to green and even midnight black. Yet, one vial sticks out to you in particular. It’s as clear as the glass that contains it and for a second, you’re not even sure that there’s anything in it. Upon further inspection, you can see the rim of liquid that fills to the top just below the cork. It intrigues and entices you. You wonder what it is. Coriolanus, picks up on your curiosity.

“I called that one liquid death”

“Liquid death?” you ask

“Yes, it took me a while to finally come up with the perfect concoction, especially to make it appear as it does. I wanted to make something that was hidden in plain sight so that when one's… enemies need to be… eliminated… They would never know what is coming. So, I was able to create a tasteless, colorless, concoction that can take ones…problems out in an instant.” He explains

You look at him with a hit of fear, then you smile and giggle.

“That’s so smart, Coriolanus.” But you only half mean it

He smiles back, giddy at your excitement. Meanwhile, in the back of your mind the sound of freedom rings again. This could be your answer. You could poison him and be free. How would you get to it though, how would you get back here without him knowing? And how would you get the key to the lab? Is it the same key as the one to open this cabinet? Your thoughts shift as he takes your hand again leading you out of the room. He locks up the cabinet quickly. You still feel the effects of the concoction he gave and as he pulls you away you look back one last time at the lab. You look at the silver key, in his hand, but only for a brief moment before he stops to stand in front of you. He pulls the blindfold out of his pocket and wraps it around your eyes as he slips the key into his pocket. You try to commit the key to memory, the shine, the shape. It’s the same one he used for the cabinet, and he uses it now to close up the lab.

“Let’s go to the garden. I think you’ll like it under this state.”

When you arrive at the garden, he takes the blindfold off and you feel the cool air hit your face. You look out onto the familiar white roses. As you walk around, taking a closer look, they appear to swirl and dance. You let out a small laugh of disbelief and amazement.

“You like it?” He asks

You nod and he takes your hand. He guides you around and even though you’ve become quite familiar, it feels like a whole new experience.

“So how long will the effects last?” You ask

“About another hour, then you’ll feel normal, well almost normal.”

“What does that mean?” You question

“Well, when I took it I felt…needy for you after.”

“Needy for me?”

“Mhmm…but you were modeling so I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Oh…” you say plainly

“So..” he kisses your knuckles. “I do hope you will join me in my bedroom tonight.”

And just like that he switches the flip. You blush, and feel vulnerable to his charm. You let out a soft, innocent. laugh and look away.

“I thought that was a given”

“Well my dear, I hope you know, you always have a choice. And it seems like you keep choosing me…”

You gaze back up at him, smiling slightly. You lean up and kiss him. This time you make it soft and sweet. You slowly move your lips against his, letting him savor you. His hands move to your waist and pull you closer to him. After one last soft kiss he leans back and sighs.

“You’re so much different than the others. You want to escape, but don’t. Yet, you don’t praise me in the way the others conceded. And even then, some part of you cares about me. Do you realize how perfect you are?”

“I-I don’t think I’m perfect.”

“You are for me…I always wanted to find someone who could challenge me in a way. You are so curious to me. Do you know how many times the girls I’ve had stay here, try to run away the next day. Or how many times they gave in, thinking that I would choose them and let them have their lives back. But you, you just wait, wait to see what my next move will be and you’ve grown to become fond of me.”

He kisses your cheek.

“I know you do want your life back, I know this isn’t how you envisioned yourself, but it’s growing on you. I can see.”

“You are much kinder than I would have thought given how you…”

“Like to take what isn’t mine.” He finishes your sentence

You nod. He brushes your hair behind your ear and smiles. He gives you a quick kiss, then steps back to look at you fully.

“So, as I said, I hope to see you in my chambers tonight.”

He squeezes your hand and walks away. As he does, you watch him. When he returns inside, two guards come out. They stay at the top of the stairs, yet you know they aren’t just guarding the building. You sigh and look around at the garden.

Everything is still swirling and swimming around you. You glance up at the stars and gasp. The twinkling lights look as if they glitter in the sky. You are in awe and aren’t sure how long you stand to look, but eventually you get cold and tired. As you walk in, the effect of the concoction begins to wear off and you feel less sleepy than you expect. Instead, just as Coriolanus predicted, you get extremely needy. You haven’t felt this on edge in years and you Immediately think of Coriolanus's tongue soaking your pussy. As you make your way inside, the guards stop you.

“Do you wish to sleep in your chamber’s or the President’s tonight?”

“President Snow’s” you answer simply.

꧁🝮꧂

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blackbleedingrose · 1 year ago

Text

Long Lost Morningstar - Part Two

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing(s): Charlie x reader (platonic), Vaggie x reader (platonic), Charlie x Vaggie

Genre: Fluff

Warning(s): minor cursing.

Notes: This is the second installment of LLM. This one will be going more in depth in (Y/N)'s life in Heaven and her relationship with Michael and Charlie. I will also be working on another Hazbin mini series (the one I mentioned in my last post) so part three will take a little longer - so, please, bare with me.

Words: 2215

"This is one of the reasons why I wanted to meet you in the first place. . . My full name is (Y/N) Demiurgos. Daughter of Archangel Michael Demiurgos".

(Y/N) Demiugros have lived in Heaven her entire life among the archangels, seraphims, and winners (human souls who ascended into Heaven after they died).

She, herself, was a seraphim - one with very large and beautiful wings; six in total.

Her father, Michael, was one of Heaven's archangel's and one of the Seven Virtues. He was the one who had created her from stardust.

At least, those were the stories she's been told her whole life.

Though, it was strange. . .

Her father had crafted her in his likeness and yet the two couldn't be more different.

Not to say Michael was a complete stiff or was lacking any sense of humor - in fact, all of the archangels had their own strange quirks. (Y/N) loved being around them and often shared their humor.

The problem here was. . . her curiosity.

She was a naturally curious being and would often dream of things most of Heaven would frown upon - like six-winged ducks.

As a child her curiosity would sometimes get the better of her and she would try to venture beyond the archangel's castle (where she lived with Michael and the other archangels).

Of course, Michael was always there to stop her from wandering too far.

It became evident that (Y/N)'s curiosity and wonderous spirit would only get worse if he didn't stop it right there and then.

He didn't want her to end up like her real parents.

What (Y/N) didn't know was that almost everything she has ever known was a complete lie.

Or that Michael was not her real father/parent.

That title rightfully belonged to Lucifer and Lilith Morningstar.

But, of course, no one who knew ever planned on telling her; so, instead they twisted the truth.

Michael told her all about what Lucifer and Lilith had done and how the two brought evil into humanity. An act that got them a one-way dropped elevator ride straight to Hell.

Obviously leaving out the part where Lucifer and Lilith were her real parents, and instead told her they were her estranged uncle and aunt.

He had hoped telling her this would stifle her growing curiosity and wandering enough to keep her out of trouble and from ending up exactly where his twin brother and his lover had all those years ago.

It also helped that ever since Lucifer and Lilith's trial, Heaven has been cracking down on teaching their residents obedience and the consequences of straying too far.

And for a long time it worked.

(Y/N) was one of Heaven's top students and a role model seraphim to all angels alike.

On the outside she was grace, obedience, and perfection personified - just as she was taught and just as Heaven wanted.

But on the inside, she was still that curious and wonderous spirit who would secretly write her dreams in a private journal she had to hide away in a pocket dimension with her magic.

(Y/N) yearned to venture outside of Heaven and explore all the different realms to see what they had to offer. Like the ones she's read from the books in Heaven's restricted section that she may or may not break into in the dead of night (she's a sneaky little sneaker :P).

Tales of archons, unique planets, and realms with distorted human desires would fill her head - her heart yearning to one day travel to those places herself.

But for now, her life was in Heaven as a role model seraphim whose curiosity and wandering was kept in check.

. . . Until she caught wind of the Princess of Hell's meeting by her fellow seraphim, Emily, during their weekly hangout.

(Y/N) was aware Lucifer and Lilith had a child born in Hell, but she never expected her demon cousin would ever be granted permission to enter Heaven.

She couldn't help but wonder what her cousin wanted with Heaven.

Whatever it was, it was big enough to warrant a whole trial with the Head Seraphim, Sera.

Oh, no - there goes her curiosity.

(Y/N) knew her father would frown upon her interacting with the daughter of the ones who damned humanity. . . but she couldn't help it! She really wanted to meet her cousin and see what she was like.

Maybe people in Hell weren't as bad as Heaven made them out to be.

Luckily for her, Emily was quite the chatterbox and told her all about how she and Sera were going to give a tour to the Princess of Hell and her partner, the hotel they were staying at, and the exact room number.

Before she went on her way, (Y/N) managed to get one of her doting simps friends to cover for her and her duties to avoid raising suspicion.

When Emily and Sera had finished talking to Heaven's demon guests and brought them to their hotel room, (Y/N) was hidden away in the hallway waiting until they left.

As soon as she was sure Sera and Emily were gone, (Y/N) quickly rushed to the door.

She silently psyched herself up before knocking.

Charlie and Vaggie, who were skeptical to hear a knock so fast, hesitantly opened the door.

"Uh. . . Hello?".

When Charlie opened the door she definitely wasn't expecting to see a very tall angel with long blonde hair, purple eyes, red cheek circle's, and a big smile on her pale face standing outside. For a moment Charlie could have sworn she was almost looking at her mother.

"Hello! You must be Charlie and Vaggie! Emily's told me all about you - well, the only things that she knew before meeting you. Haven't had the chance to ask her about you after meeting you, but since I'm here now I might as well as you yourselves!".

(Y/N) snapped out of her trailing thoughts and rambling, "Oh, shit! My bad! I got a little carried away and forgot to introduce myself. Sorry. My name is (Y/N). I'm a seraphim. It's so nice to finally meet you!"

Charlie and Vaggie had to recover from the whiplash of the seraphim's personality and onslaught of words. Not wanting to offend her and mess up her chance before the trial, Charlie invited (Y/N) inside. (Y/N) eagerly accepted and walked into the room admiring it - she's never been in a hotel before.

"So. . . why are you here?" Vaggie asked rather rudely suspicious of why a random seraphim would go out of their way to talk to people from Hell. "Vaggie!" Charlie whisper-yelled afraid she offended a potential high authority in Heaven.

"Oh, well, I was hoping to get a chance to meet you both. When Emily told me about how the Princess of Hell wanted a meeting in Heaven about her hotel to redeem sinners, I'll admit my curiosity was peaked and I knew I had to see who you were in person".

Charlie gasped, her eyes shining, "Does this mean you think it's possible to rehabilitate demons?!". Vaggie glared at the angelic being, "Why would a seraphim care to meet people like us?".

(Y/N) gave the two a gentle smile, "Well, I tend to be a naturally curious individual - which I'm sure you can imagine isn't something Heaven is too fond of. As for redeeming sinners - I'm not sure. Personally, I would love to see souls in Hell given the chance to be redeemed and enter Heaven. Especially the ones who truly do not deserve eternal damnation. Which is why I'm excited to see how your trial ends. Hopefully you have evidence to prove your hotel works. I mean, if the Princess of Hell is willing to vouch and put in the effort on giving sinners a better chance at an afterlife in paradise, then maybe not all demons are bad after all".

Charlie and Vaggie were awestruck. Sure, Emily was really nice but (Y/N) was the first angel to actually be willing to give them a chance. Charlie had tears in her eyes, "D-Do you really believe that?". (Y/N) smiled and laid her hand on Charlie's, "I do".

Charlie and Vaggie smiled at the seraphim. It was nice to see that there was one angel here in Heaven who wasn't going to shut them down right away - someone who genuinely supported their cause.

The three chatted some more - mainly Charlie and (Y/N) with Vaggie chiming in from time to time. Now that the three got more comfortable with each other, the conversation was going a lot smoother. Despite just meeting one another, Charlie and (Y/N) felt like they've known each other for years.

"So, what do you do here in Heaven?" Charlie asked (Y/N). "Oh! Well, I sometimes help the archangels with their duties, but I mainly work in court trials", (Y/N) answered. Charlie's eyes lit up, "Court trials?".

(Y/N) immediately caught on. She shook her head, "Oh, no. Not in the actual trials; that's for the higher seraphims. In this case, Sera and Emily. I'm just a stenographer and record keeper. I help keep and maintain the court records and sometimes record the trials in person".

Vaggie raised a brow, "A seraphim as a stenographer?". (Y/N) nodded, "It's actually a very important job. . . but, I won't lie and say it was my first choice for a job. It was my father's idea. His way of keeping me busy, entertained, and out of trouble".

Charlie blinked, "Oh! Who's your father?". (Y/N) bit her lip nervous, "This is one of the reasons why I wanted to meet you in the first place. . . My full name is (Y/N) Demiurgos. Daughter of Archangel Michael Demiurgos". Charlie and Vaggie's jaws dropped.

"Archangel Michael?! A-As in my dad's twin brother?!".

(Y/N) nodded fiddling nervously with her hands. Charlie did a double take, "Woah, woah! Wait! Then doesn't that make us-" "Cousins," (Y/N) confirmed. Charlie gasped placing her hands on her cheeks, "OMG! That's amazing!". (Y/N) smiled in relief, "Yeah. I guess it is".

"Who's your mom?" Charlie asked eagerly. "Oh, I don't have one," (Y/N) said rather casually. This made Charlie and Vaggie feel a bit bad, "Oh".

(Y/N) waved her hands, "Oh, it's not like that! I've never had one! You see most angels are typically created here in Heaven using stardust, which is how my father created me. He used his likeness and the female reference of Lilith - your mother. And thus, I was born".

"Oooh - that makes so much sense! Now, I understand why you look so familiar!" Charlie smiled at her newly found relative. She couldn't believe she had a cousin in Heaven. One so kind and beautiful.

(Y/N) was relieved at how fast Charlie accepted her. She was worried she might not be too fond of having an angelic relative.

Vaggie was a bit nervous to discover that (Y/N) was the daughter of a higher ranking angel, but it quickly went away when she saw how happy her and Charlie were talking to each other.

She's only known (Y/N) for a short while, but she truly believed the seraphim had no ill intentions towards them and genuinely wanted to get to know them.

In fact, (Y/N)'s personality reminded her a little of Charlie.

(Y/N) admired her cousin for her big heart and the confidence she had in her own dreams. She was ashamed to admit she was a little envious.

How she wished she could act on her dreams like her little cousin; but, Heaven would never allow it. Her father always had to remind her not to stray too far, or she might end up just like her uncle and aunt. . . Fallen.

This was why she had to always keep up appearances when she was in public. No one other than those closest to her knew of the dorky, cheerful, and quirky side of her personality. To everyone else she was poised, graceful, and elegant.

When Charlie had asked her about her dreams (Y/N) told her seraphims weren't allowed to dream, or at least have dreams that would go against Heaven's rules.

Despite trying to hide how much that bothered her, Charlie and Vaggie noticed the small shift in her behavior. They felt bad for her wishing Heaven could be more open minded.

(Y/N) quickly waved it off claiming she was okay and that she was used it. She understood her father just wanted to keep her safe and out of trouble.

Soon it was time for (Y/N) to go to avoid making her father suspicious of her whereabouts.

Before she left she and Charlie shared a tight loving hug. (Y/N) wished her good luck in her trial and that she would be rooting for her.

Hearing her cousin support her dream and wish her luck made Charlie feel a lot better about the trial.

Being around (Y/N) made her feel comfortable and safe. She felt familiar, which now makes sense seeing as the two were family.

Her dad couldn't be here, so it felt good knowing there was someone in her family here in Heaven who believed in her.

With those thoughts in mind, she was ready for the trial and positive she would change Heaven's mind and prove the hotel's credibility.

. . . Too bad things sometimes don't go as we hoped.

Taglist:

@soobryu @kyo-kyo1 @miyako-night20 @charliecharlie65 @unknow-sama @myluckymoon @lbcreations-blog @moonchaos18

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin charlie #hazbin lucifer #hazbin vaggie #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lilith #hazbin hotel lilith #hazbin hotel reader insert #charlie x vaggie

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heliosunny · 3 months ago

Note

Hey umm I had a little request here. Not little to be exact...

It's like a Kaiser x reader in which the reader drugs and kiddnaps kaiser after a match and then takes them home. Ties (handcuffs)them up into the basement and when kaiser wakes up the reader greets him and gets him food. Kaiser refuses to eat it and asks reader to untie him while asking what does she want from him. The reader says that she will take care of him and will spend rest of her life as his servant, she will fulfill his every need except granting him freedom. Kaiser starts shouting at her asking to let him go or he will ruin her life forever. The reader pulls out a taser and sticks it into his neck. Kaiser screams in pain and begged for mercy to stop. The reader turns the taser off and tells him that if he won't obey then she will have to discipline him. Reader picks his half conscious body from the floor and placed his Head onto her lap and caresses his burn marks onto the neck while promising him that she will never let go of him and will give him the most important thing he needs "love"

Kaiser's body was in pain and aching like crazy from the use of the taser but still he gathered a little courage and spoke in a pleading way as if begging the reader '" let me go.... Please..."

The reader coverd his mouth and said "' i love you.... forever"'

That's the idea..

Pls take your time and let me know 🙏

Just so u know, I read this and your newest request and was planning on writing it. For the 2nd one, I'll upload later, maybe it'll take a while.

Michael Kaiser x Yandere!Fem!Reader

Kaiser’s head pounded as he slowly regained consciousness. A dull ache throbbed in his limbs, and his senses felt sluggish. The last thing he remembered was stepping out of the stadium. Then—nothing.

His sharp blue eyes flickered open, only to be met with dim, flickering light. His wrists burned, the sharp bite of metal digging into his skin. Handcuffs. He gave them a sharp tug, but they didn’t budge. His ankles were bound too.

There were no windows, no indication of the outside world. The only source of light came from a small, outdated bulb swaying weakly from the ceiling.

Then, a soft static crackled to life. Kaiser’s gaze snapped upward, scanning the dark corners of the room. A holo screen flickered on in front of him, mounted onto the far wall. The image was distorted, barely forming a silhouette.

“You’re finally awake.”

He yanked at his restraints again, harder this time. “Who the hell are you?” Show yourself.”

A giggle echoed through the room. “In due time, love.”

“What do you want?”

“To take care of you” the voice hummed. “To give you everything you need.” The silhouette on the holo screen shifted, as if leaning closer. “You don’t have to worry about anything anymore. I’ll be your servant for the rest of my life.”

His fingers curled into fists, nails biting into his palms. “Let me go” he ordered, “Or I’ll make sure you regret this.”

“You’re so cute when you’re angry.”

The screen flickered for a moment, then went dark. Silence fell once again, but it wasn’t empty. He could hear it now—the soft sound of a door unlocking, the faint creak of footsteps.

And then, finally, you appeared.

The tray of food in your hands steady as you approached him. Kaiser’s glare was sharp, filled with fury and desperation, but you only smiled sweetly in response.

“You must be starving” you cooed, setting the tray down on a small table near him. “I made this just for you.”

Kaiser didn’t even glance at the food. His wrists tugged at the cuffs again, his frustration evident. “Let me go,” he demanded, voice edged with fury. “Right now.”

“Why do you keep asking that, my love? I already told you—I’ll take care of you. You don’t need to worry about anything anymore.”

“I don’t need you. What I need is to get out of here.” His voice rose, echoing against the cold stone walls. “You’re insane if you think you can keep me here! I’ll ruin your life the second I—”

The words were cut off by a sharp crackle as you pulled a taser from your pocket and pressed it against his neck. His entire frame convulsed violently, his breath hitching as a strangled scream escaped his throat. His muscles locked up, his fingers curling and twitching as pain consumed him. The chair rattled from his movements, but he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

Then, suddenly, his body went limp. His head lolled forward, his breathing ragged and shallow.

You crouched beside him, your fingers traced the fresh burn marks on his neck, admiring them with a gentle touch.

“See?” you whispered softly. “I don’t want to hurt you, but you need to understand. If you don’t behave, I’ll have to discipline you.”

Kaiser didn’t respond. His body remained motionless, his head resting against his chest. You knew he wasn’t unconscious for long—he was strong, after all. But for now, he was yours to hold.

Carefully, you lifted him from the chair, letting his heavy frame slump against you. His head rested on your lap as you sat on the cold concrete floor, stroking his cheek with featherlight touches.

“I love you” you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “Forever.”

A faint groan escaped Kaiser’s lips as he stirred, his body twitching slightly against your lap. His lashes fluttered before his eyes blinked open, hazy with exhaustion and lingering pain.

He jerked upright, trying to push himself away from you, but his strength was still weak. The moment his wrists tugged against the cuffs, his breath hitched in frustration.

“Let me go.” His voice was hoarse, but the anger in it was unmistakable. “I swear to God, if you don’t—”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Why are you making this so difficult, my love? I only want to take care of you.”

Kaiser thrashed harder this time, his body twisting against the restraints. His legs kicked out, trying to free himself, but the bindings held firm.

“I’ll kill you for this,” he spat, “Do you hear me? I’ll—”

Another surge of electricity shot through his body as you pressed the taser into his side. A sharp, strangled cry ripped from his throat.

You held it there a little longer this time, watching as his strength withered away beneath the relentless shock. His screams grew weaker, his body trembling uncontrollably. When you finally pulled the taser away, he slumped forward, panting heavily.

You leaned in close, feeling the way his body flinched under your touch. “I told you,” you murmured sweetly, “I don’t want to hurt you, but you’re being so stubborn.”

A soft whimper left him, barely audible. His pride was breaking, crumbling under the repeated punishment. His breath hitched as you cupped his cheek, tilting his face upward.

“Kaiser,” you whispered, “I love you. All I want is to take care of you.”

He was still trying to fight, but the pain had drained him. You reached over, picking up the tray of food. “You need to eat” you said, scooping a small portion onto the spoon. “I made this just for you.”

He turned his head weakly, refusing at first. But as you reached for the taser again, his breath caught in his throat. His fingers curled into weak fists, his entire body shivering from the leftover agony.

“…Please,” he finally choked out, “No more…”

A warm smile stretched across your lips. “Then be good for me.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, jaw clenching. Then, hesitantly, he parted his lips just enough for you to slip the spoon inside.

“That’s it” you cooed, brushing a hand through his damp hair. “You’re finally learning, my love.”

Kaiser’s jaw tensed as he swallowed the food, his pride crushed with every bite. He hated this. He hated you. The humiliation of being reduced to this state burned more than the taser’s sting. But his body was still aching. For now, he had no choice but to obey.

He turned his head away after the last bite, silent but seething. His breaths were slow and uneven, his fingers twitching as they tested the restraints once again.

“I don’t belong here.”

“I don’t care what sick fantasy you’ve built in your head,” he rasped, “This isn’t love. You can keep me locked up, you can do whatever you want, but it won’t change the fact that I will never love you.”

“You’re still resisting, even after everything?”

Kaiser clenched his teeth. “I will always resist.”

“That’s alright. You just need time to adjust.”

“I’ll never adjust.”

You ignored his defiance, reaching out to brush your fingers against his cheek. He flinched away instantly, a scowl twisting his exhausted face. “I know you hate this place,” you murmured, “But if you behave, I’ll move you somewhere nicer. A proper room, something more comfortable.”

“A golden cage is still a cage.”

You merely chuckled. “You’ll change your mind eventually.”

“But for now, I think you need some time to reflect.”

Before he could respond, you pulled away and stepped back. His stomach dropped as you walked toward the door.

“Wait. What are you—”

You reached the light switch, your fingers resting on it. A knowing smile played on your lips as you turned to look at him one last time.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Then, with a soft click, the lights went out.

Darkness swallowed the room whole. The faint hum of the holo screen was gone. Kaiser’s breath hitched as he tugged at the cuffs again, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He could feel the cold sweat on his skin, the sting of his bruises and burns intensifying in the stillness.

For the first time since waking up in this nightmare, true fear settled deep in his chest.

And all he could do was wait.

When you returned the next day, the room was silent. With a flick of the switch, dim light flooded the space once again.

He hadn’t slept—not really. His body was exhausted, but the overwhelming silence, the endless black void, had kept him awake, gnawing at his mind.

At the sound of your footsteps, he stiffened. Slowly, he lifted his head. Even in his disheveled state, he still held onto his defiance.

“Good morning, my love” you greeted cheerfully, carrying a fresh set of clothes in one hand and a small bucket in the other. “Did you miss me?”

Kaiser didn’t respond. He simply turned his head away.

You sighed dramatically. “Still so stubborn.”

Without another word, you lifted the bucket and splashed the cold water straight at him.

Kaiser flinched, gasping as the icy liquid crashed against his skin. His hair clung to his face, water dripping down his sharp jaw and soaking into his already damp clothes.

“Punishment for not obeying.”

A low growl rumbled from his throat as he clenched his fists. His shoulders trembled, not just from the cold but from the sheer frustration burning inside him. But he didn’t lash out—not yet.

You held up the dry clothes in front of him, tilting your head. “Now, do you want to change by yourself, or should I help?”

“You wouldn’t dare—”

“Oh, but I would.” Your voice was teasing, but your eyes gleamed with certainty. “I have no problem doing everything for you.”

His breath came out shaky, his pride and dignity warring against the situation. For a long moment, he remained silent, his gaze locked onto yours in a battle of wills.

Then, finally, his shoulders slumped slightly.

“…Please” he muttered, barely above a whisper.

You stepped closer. “What was that?”

His pride was cracking again, and it killed him to say the words. But he had no choice.

“Please,” he repeated, louder this time. “Let me change on my own.”

“See? That wasn’t so hard.”

You turned your back to him, stepping just far enough to give him space. “I won’t look. But don’t take too long.”

Behind you, Kaiser exhaled shakily, his fingers struggling to undo the damp buttons with his bound hands. His movements were slow, hesitant, but he knew he had no other option.

For now, all he could do was endure.

Kaiser barely had the strength to lift his arms after changing. The damp fabric of his old clothes pooled at his feet, replaced by the fresh, dry ones you had provided.

You turned around just as he finished, stepping closer with a towel in hand. Without asking, you reached out, gently running the towel through his damp hair. Kaiser remained silent, his head slightly bowed.

After his hair was dry enough, you set the towel aside and pulled out a small container of ointment. Your fingers grazed over the burned skin near his neck, and this time, he barely flinched.

“You’re too reckless” you murmured as you applied the medicine, your touch gentle despite the damage you had inflicted. “If you just listened to me, none of this would’ve happened.”

Kaiser didn’t respond.

Once you finished, you reached for the tray of food you had brought earlier. “I know you must be starving” you said, scooping up a spoonful of the warm meal. “And since you’re too exhausted to fight me, I’ll feed you myself.”

He weakly turned his head away, but there was no force behind the movement. You simply cupped his jaw, guiding his face back toward you.

“Come on” you coaxed. “Be good.”

A flicker of resistance remained in his gaze, but his body betrayed him. His stomach was empty, and his strength was at its limit. When you pressed the spoon lightly against his lips, he parted them without protest.

One bite. Then another. Slowly, steadily, you fed him, watching as his resistance dulled with each bite. By the time the tray was empty, his eyelids were heavier than before. His body sagged slightly, fatigue pulling him down like an invisible weight.

You wiped the corner of his lips with a napkin, brushing your fingers against his cheek one last time.

“Good boy”

He didn’t react. He was too drained to care anymore.

You stood up, gathering the tray and medicine. “You did well today” you praised, stepping toward the door. “Maybe, if you behave tomorrow, I’ll let you move to a nicer room.”

The lights flickered off again, plunging the room into darkness once more.

As the door locked behind you, sealing him in for the night, the only thing left in the suffocating silence was the sound of his slow, exhausted breathing.

---

The sound of the lock clicking open echoed in the dim room. Kaiser barely reacted. His head was bowed, his body slumped against the chair, the exhaustion weighing down on him like chains heavier than the ones around his wrists. You knelt in front of him, reaching for the cuffs. His wrists were raw, the skin reddened from his repeated struggles. But now? He barely had the strength to lift his arms.

The moment the cuffs clicked open, his hands dropped limply into his lap.

“I told you” you murmured, sliding an arm around his waist, “if you behave, I’ll give you something better.”

He stiffened slightly as you pulled him up, his body leaning into yours out of sheer necessity. He hated how easily you handled him, how you carried his weakened frame without struggle.

Step by step, you guided him out of the place, up a short hallway, and into a new space. The moment you entered, you kicked the door shut behind you and locked it.

This room was different. It was larger, with a proper bed, a dresser, even a window—though the thick bars across the glass made it clear that freedom was still far beyond his reach. The walls were painted in soft colors, almost too gentle for the cruelty that had brought him here.

You helped him onto the bed, but the moment he was free from your grasp, he shifted to sit up on his own. He didn’t look at you at first. But when he did, his blue eyes burned with pure rage.

“You think this changes anything? You think I’ll just accept this?”

“I only want to take care of you.”

His glare deepened. “I don’t need you.”

You ignored his words, leaning down to check the taser mark on his neck. The burn was healing, but it still looked painful. You reached out—

And in an instant, sharp teeth sank into your wrist. Kaiser bit down hard, his jaw locked like a wild animal refusing to let go.

Your hand struck his cheek for a slap in return, the sharp sound breaking through the tense silence. Kaiser’s head snapped to the side, his teeth releasing you instantly.

Then, slowly, he turned back toward you, his eyes wide—less from pain and more from disbelief. A deep red mark was already forming on his cheek, standing out against his pale skin.

“…You hit me”

You exhaled, shaking off the lingering sting in your wrist. “You bit me.”

His lips parted slightly as if he wanted to say more, to spit another insult, to throw another defiant glare. But the shock still lingered in his expression. He had expected a lot from you—obsession, control, even cruelty. But a slap? That had caught him off guard.

You reached out again, and this time, he didn’t move. He just sat there, watching you through unreadable eyes as your fingers gently brushed against the taser mark.

“…You’re still hurt” you murmured, “I’ll fix it.”

Then after completed what needed to be done, you left.

The door creaked open again, breaking the heavy silence of the room. By now, Kaiser had lost track of time. Hours had passed—maybe even a full day—since you last visited. His stomach was empty, his throat dry, but he refused to acknowledge the hunger gnawing at his insides.

Despite everything, his pride refused to let him collapse completely. Even now, he sat upright on the bed, back against the headboard, his expression blank but his eyes burning with silent hatred when you stepped inside.

"Good evening."

Kaiser didn’t respond.

You sighed as you set a fresh towel and clothes on the nearby chair. "I see you’re still upset about missing breakfast."

"You deserved it," you continued casually, walking closer. "Disobedience has consequences. You bit me, after all."

Kaiser finally scoffed, voice raspy from disuse. "Poor thing," he muttered. "Did that hurt?"

You chuckled. "It surprised me more than anything. But I think you learned your lesson, didn’t you?"

His eyes flickered to your wrist, where faint marks from his teeth remained. He looked away just as quickly.

"You need to clean up" you said, your tone shifting back to its usual sweetness. "Take a bath first. Then I’ll give you something to eat."

Kaiser didn’t react at first. But after a few seconds, he shifted his arms slightly—just enough to push himself off the bed. The moment he tried to stand, however, his legs gave out beneath him.

His knees hit the floor hard, a sharp breath escaping him as his body refused to cooperate.

You crouched beside him, watching with mild amusement as he gritted his teeth, trying and failing to lift himself. His hands trembled against the floor, his limbs weak from hunger, fatigue, and the punishment his body had endured over the past few days.

"Still too proud to ask for help?"

"Fine, I’ll help you."

Before he could protest, you slipped an arm beneath his shoulders and lifted him. He stiffened instantly, his weakened body pressing against yours as you pulled him up.

"Don’t touch me"

"You’re in no position to make demands."

Despite his anger, he didn’t have the strength to resist when you guided him into the adjoining bathroom.

The space was clean, minimal, yet still designed with no chance of escape—no windows, nothing sharp, nothing he could use against you. The bathtub was already filled, steam rising from the water, its warmth a stark contrast to the cold emptiness in his chest.

You helped him sit on the edge, your grip firm as you started undoing the buttons of his shirt.

"I can do it myself"

"Can you?"

His fingers trembled against your wrist, his entire body still sluggish and drained. He wanted to fight you, to push you away, but deep down, he knew the truth—he couldn’t.

Seeing his hesitation, you smiled. "Don’t worry," you cooed. "I’ll be gentle."

And with that, you continued undressing him, ignoring the quiet, defeated tremble of his hands as he let you.

Once Kaiser was clean, you guided him back to the chair in the room, his body still heavy with exhaustion. His hair was damp, clinging to his forehead, and his skin looked a little less pale now that the grime and sweat were washed away.

On the table before him sat a plate of food—warm, fresh, and far more inviting than anything he'd had in what felt like forever.

He stared at it for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, his gaze lifted to meet yours.

You smiled, settling into the chair across from him. “Eat up. I thought you were hungry.”

Kaiser’s fingers twitched at his sides. He had been hungry—starving, actually. And now that the food was in front of him, reality hit him all at once. He had been waiting, enduring, expecting, preparing for you to feed him again, to force him like before.

But you weren’t moving. You were just sitting there, watching.

Something inside him twisted, and he clenched his jaw. He realized, then, how foolish it was. How much time he had wasted, how much pride he had swallowed, waiting for something he could have done himself.

His hand shot forward, fingers gripping the utensils as he dug in without hesitation.

The first bite burned as it slid down his throat, but he didn’t care. His body screamed for nourishment, and he gave in. Bite after bite, he ate, fast but not desperate, controlled but still hungry.

His movements slowed after a while, his mind finally catching up with his body. He glanced up between bites, meeting your gaze once again.

You were still smiling. Still watching.

His grip on the fork tightened slightly. He hated this. Hated how easily you could tear him down and then build him back up, piece by piece, until he didn’t even know what he was fighting anymore.

It wasn’t until the plate was nearly empty that Kaiser felt something was wrong.

His breathing had quickened. His body, despite the exhaustion, had started to feel… warm. A slow, creeping heat spread through his veins. His fingers twitched around the fork as he set it down, his pulse beginning to hammer against his ribs.

Something wasn’t right.

His gaze snapped up to you.

You were already standing. Already walking toward the door.

He opened his mouth to speak, but his tongue felt heavy. His body felt—off. His thoughts were clouding, muddling together, making it harder to focus.

You glanced back at him just as you reached the doorway.

“Sleep well, Kaiser”

The door shut.

The lock slid into place.

Kaiser pushed himself up from the chair, but the moment he tried to stand, his knees buckled, sending him crashing back down. His breath hitched, frustration burning alongside the unnatural heat flooding his system.

What the hell did you do?

His own body betrayed him, sinking into the overwhelming warmth that clouded his mind, dulled his senses.

And he was alone.

-----

The door creaked open, but the sound was different this time. Not yours—someone else’s.

Kaiser barely lifted his gaze from where he sat on the edge of the bed. A week had passed, or so he estimated, though time had blurred into an endless cycle of dull routine. His body had recovered—well, mostly. The effects of whatever you had slipped into his food had long since worn off, but the memory of it still left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“You should eat.”

Kaiser finally looked up.

The man standing before him was dressed in crisp butler attire—immaculate, professional, completely out of place in this twisted prison. His expression was unreadable, neither cruel nor kind, merely existing in the space between obligation and command.

Kaiser scoffed, leaning back against the headboard. “You’re new.”

The butler remained unmoved. “Miss has entrusted me with your care. I will be attending to your needs from now on.”

Kaiser’s fingers twitched against the sheets. Miss. He knew exactly who that meant.

So, you were gone. For a while, at least.

“Lucky me,” he muttered, “She got tired of me already?”

“No.” The butler set down a tray of food on the small table beside the bed. “She simply wished for you to be well taken care of in her absence.”

For the past week, this man had been his sole company. Tending to him. Feeding him. Ensuring he was fine but never speaking unless necessary. No unwanted touches, no cruel discipline—just cold, methodical service.

A part of Kaiser should have been relieved. This was better than you, wasn’t it?

But it wasn’t freedom.

And every day that passed, he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was all just preparation for something worse.

---

A week later.

The door opened again. But this time, it was you.

Kaiser knew before he even looked. Slowly, he lifted his gaze, locking eyes with you for the first time in days.

“Did you miss me?”

Kaiser’s expression darkened the moment you spoke.

"You’ve been doing well, haven’t you? Eating, bathing, resting… My butler took good care of you."

Kaiser scoffed, looking away. “At least he wasn’t a lunatic.”

“You wound me.”

He expected you to punish him for that remark, but instead, you sat on the chair beside the bed, crossing your legs as if you owned the very air in the room.

“Well,” you mused, tilting your head. “Since you’ve been behaving, I’ve decided on a new rule.”

“For every request you make—whether it’s food, a bath, fresh clothes—you’ll have to pay for it.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose. “Of course. Should’ve known you’d turn this into some sick game.”

“Oh, but the payment is simple. A kiss.”

Kaiser froze.

You leaned in slightly, watching his reaction with twisted delight. “On the cheek… or the lips. Your choice.”

“That’s insane,” he spat. “I’d rather starve.”

You simply shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

And with that, you stood and made your way toward the door, your intent clear—leave him there, with nothing.

Kaiser’s stomach twisted. He had been through enough suffering. The hunger, the exhaustion, the pain of being left in darkness for days at a time—it had worn him down. No matter how much he hated you, he knew you were cruel enough to follow through with your threats.

He hated you. Hated himself for what he was about to do.

But as your hand reached for the doorknob, his voice stopped you.

“…Tch.” He exhaled slowly, closing his eyes as if to block out the reality of this moment. “Come here.”

You paused at the door, turning back with a knowing smile.

“Oh?” You feigned surprise, “Changed your mind already?”

“Just get it over with.”

You stepped closer, slow and deliberate, letting the moment stretch out just to watch his resolve crack further. He was already broken in so many ways—one more push wouldn’t hurt.

Standing before him now, you lowered yourself slightly to his level. “Where?” you asked, voice teasing. “Cheek… or lips?”

Kaiser clenched his jaw, the muscles in his neck tightening. It was humiliating. Every fiber of his being screamed to lash out, to refuse, to let himself rot before giving you what you wanted.

With a sharp inhale, he jerked his chin slightly, his cheek barely tilting toward you.

You smiled, leaning in close. The warmth of your breath ghosted over his skin before your lips pressed against his cheek.

When you finally pulled away, he exhaled sharply through his nose, his fists clenching.

“There,” he muttered, “Now give me the damn food.”

“See? That wasn’t so hard.”

You stepped back, grabbing the tray of food and placing it in front of him. “Eat up, love.”

He didn’t wait. He picked up the utensils, forcing himself to ignore the way his skin still burned where your lips had touched him.

As he ate, you simply sat across from him, watching with quiet amusement.

The days passed in agonizing repetition.

Each time he needed something—food, water, clean clothes—he had to pay.

At first, Kaiser barely tolerated it. He would turn his head at the last moment, letting your lips brush against his cheek with a disgusted scoff, his fingers trembling with restrained rage. He hated it. Hated how easily you toyed with him, how you turned something as simple as survival into a twisted form of submission.

---

One night, when you brought his food, you didn’t say anything. You simply set the tray on the table and sat down, waiting.

Kaiser hesitated. Normally, you’d tease him. You’d smirk, lean in, tilt your head expectantly. But now, you were quiet.

He swallowed, an uncomfortable heat creeping into his chest. His body had long since adjusted to this sick routine—to the way his pulse quickened when you got too close, to the way his skin tingled where your lips met his.

Now, with you saying nothing, he felt… unsteady. Like the control he had convinced himself he still held was slipping even further from his grasp.

Then, before he could stop himself, before he could even think—

He turned to you.

His cheek barely hovered an inch from yours.

You raised a brow. “Oh?”

The realization hit him like a brick.

You didn’t ask for it this time. He was the one offering.

A sharp inhale rattled in his throat, but he didn’t move away. He couldn’t. The hunger in his stomach twisted into something else entirely—something that had nothing to do with food and everything to do with the unbearable tension that had built between you.

You leaned in, lips barely brushing his skin— But then, for the first time, he moved forward.

The moment was brief, a second of weakness, of surrender. His lips barely met yours before he realized what he had done, before he could pull back and pretend it never happened.

But you weren’t about to let that slide.

“My, my… you’re learning.”

Kaiser’s breath was shaky, his mind spinning.

And for the first time, when you kissed him again, he didn’t pull away.

The moment your lips met his, Kaiser reacted on instinct.

His teeth sank into your lower lip. The metallic tang flooded your mouth as you pulled back slightly, a sharp sting pulsing from the wound. Kaiser’s breath was uneven, his chest rising and falling rapidly, eyes locked onto yours with something raw—rage, defiance, and something else neither of you wanted to name.

You licked the blood from your lip, tilting your head. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, you leaned in.

Before he could react, your teeth found his neck.

Kaiser tensed, fingers gripping the sheets beneath him. The bite wasn’t gentle—it was punishment, a warning all wrapped into one.

When you finally pulled away, a dark bruise was already forming.

You wiped your lips, smirking slightly as you stood. “You bite, I bite back. That’s only fair, isn’t it?”

You left without another word.

---

Three days passed.

This time, the butler’s presence was short. He only tended to Kaiser’s needs in silence, the routine colder. Kaiser didn’t know if that made it better or worse.

But then, you returned.

And this time, you weren’t alone.

The butler stepped into the room behind you, standing tall, hands folded neatly in front of him. He said nothing at first, simply waiting for your command.

Kaiser’s eyes flicked to your lips. The bruising from his bite was still visible, a faint mark against your skin. It wasn’t intentional, but the words slipped from his mouth before he could stop them—

“…Does it hurt?”

You blinked, as if surprised by the question. “Not really.”

He hated how easily you dismissed it.

But before he could dwell on it, you turned to the butler.

“Report.”

The man nodded, his voice steady and monotone. “During your absence, I ensured he remained fed and bathed. No major incidents, save for a few minor outbursts.”

Kaiser scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah? That’s all?”

The butler glanced at you. “He attempted to pry the door open twice, refused to eat one of his meals until I physically placed the tray in front of him, and muttered insults under his breath on multiple occasions.”

Kaiser clicked his tongue. “Tch. And?”

The butler continued, his face unreadable. “And one night, he spoke aloud, assuming I was asleep, saying he ‘almost missed you.’”

Kaiser’s body went rigid, his fingers twitching. “That’s bullshit,” he spat.

You tilted your head, your eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh?”

He turned his glare on the butler. “Lying bastard.”

But the butler merely bowed slightly. “I was trained not to lie.”

You crossed your arms, watching the scene unfold. “Well? Tell me, Kaiser. Are you lying?”

Kaiser’s lips curled in fury. His body tensed. Then, without thinking, he stormed forward, fist raising as if to strike the butler down— But the moment his eyes met yours, he stopped.

You didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. You only stared, expression unreadable, waiting.

The rage didn’t leave him. But the fight drained from his limbs.

Slowly, his hand lowered.

He took a step back, grinding his teeth together. “…Tch.”

“Kaiser.”

Your voice was firm, unwavering.

He remained standing, his muscles coiled tight with lingering fury, but your gaze didn’t waver. You merely nodded toward the bed.

“Sit.”

Ultimately, his body betrayed him—whether from exhaustion, submission, or something far worse. With a sharp inhale, he lowered himself onto the bed.

The butler remained silent, standing in place as if he were nothing more than furniture. Kaiser hated that. Hated the presence of another person in this room.

And then, you stepped forward.

Without hesitation, your fingers reached for the buttons of his shirt.

Kaiser stiffened. This was nothing new. You had treated his wounds before, stripped him of any illusion of control. But with the butler standing there, watching with an expression as unreadable as ever, a foreign heat curled in his stomach.

His skin prickled as you pushed the fabric aside, exposing the bruise on his neck—the one you had left there days ago. It was dark, almost fully developed, a mark of possession more than punishment.

Your fingers brushed over it lightly, testing the sensitivity.

Kaiser inhaled sharply through his nose.

“You heal fast” you murmured, amused. “But I should still take care of it.”

Your touch was deceptively gentle at first, the cool press of your fingertips a stark contrast to the heat pooling beneath his skin. But then—

You leaned in.

Kaiser barely had time to register it before your lips ghosted over the bruise.

It was slow, deliberate, each press of your mouth more lingering than the last. Not a simple treatment, not a clinical act of care—no, this was something else entirely. Something meant to remind him of his place, of the way you could twist pain and pleasure into something indistinguishable.

And the worst part?

The butler saw it all.

Kaiser’s fists clenched against the sheets, his breathing uneven. His body—his traitorous body—reacted before his mind could shut it down. A slow, insidious heat spread through his limbs, the humiliating realization sinking in that, despite the situation, despite his hatred—

It felt good.

Your lips lingered just a second too long before pulling away.

You tilted your head, watching him with something close to curiosity. “You’re quiet.”

Kaiser swallowed hard. He wanted to snap at you, to curse, to shove you away—but his body refused to move.

“Interesting.” You smirked.

Your fingers trailed lower, as if considering whether to leave another mark—whether to claim him further, right here, in front of the butler’s impassive gaze.

And Kaiser?

He hated that for a single, fleeting moment…

He didn’t want you to stop.

Your lips pressed against his skin again. And again.

Each mark you left burned into him—not with pain, but with something far worse.

You were slow, letting each kiss linger just long enough to sear itself into his mind. Kaiser’s body was tense beneath you, his fists clenched against the sheets, his breathing uneven.

He knew what this was. Knew it was nothing more than another way to control him, to remind him of his place beneath your touch.

And yet—

His body reacted before his mind could stop it.

The presence of the butler, the quiet intensity of his gaze, only made it worse. It should have been humiliating. It was humiliating. But some sick part of him couldn’t ignore the way it made his pulse quicken, the way it made him hyperaware of every brush of your lips, every ghost of your breath against his skin.

You were taking your time, savoring each moment. Kaiser felt like he was suffocating beneath the weight of it.

Then, just as your lips met the hollow of his throat—

“Ahem.”

The butler’s voice was calm, but firm.

“It’s time to leave.”

You sighed against Kaiser’s skin, your breath warm. “So soon?”

Kaiser barely held back a growl of frustration. He hated this. Hated that it was over. That the moment was being stolen from him before he could even process what he was feeling.

You pulled back, admiring your handiwork—several fresh bruises blooming against his skin, standing stark against the ones already fading.

You smiled. “Well, I suppose that’s enough for now.”

Kaiser’s jaw tightened. His body screamed at him to say something—to demand that you stay, to do something—but his pride kept him silent.

You stood, smoothing out your clothes as you turned away.

“Take care of him” you told the butler, as if he were nothing more than a pet left in someone else’s care. Then, without another glance back, you left the room.

The butler, as always, said nothing.

And Kaiser?

He hated the way his skin still burned where you had touched him.

---

A day passed.

The butler tended to him as usual, but it wasn’t the same. His touch was distant, impersonal, nothing like yours. It left Kaiser restless, irritable.

And then—

You returned.

The door clicked open, and before you could even react—

He moved.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close in a sudden, desperate embrace. His body pressed into yours. It was instinct. A reaction he couldn’t stop, couldn’t understand.

You barely had time to react to the embrace. His grip was firm, not desperate in a pleading way, but desperate in something deeper—something neither of you had words for yet. His warmth seeped into you, his body pressing against yours as if he were afraid you'd disappear the moment he let go.

You glanced at the butler. "You can leave now."

The butler gave a small nod before exiting without question, leaving just the two of you. The door clicked shut, the silence between you thick, suffocating.

You ran a hand through his damp hair, "Kaiser"

Slowly, you guided him back, easing him onto the bed. He didn't resist. His body followed yours without thought, pliant in a way that would've been unthinkable not long ago.

His hair was still wet from the shower he'd taken earlier, his skin clean, his body fed. He had everything he needed. And yet, there was still something unfulfilled, something gnawing at him.

"What do you want?"

His lips pressed into a thin line. For a moment, he looked as if he might scoff, might throw out some biting remark just to keep himself guarded. But then his fingers twitched against the fabric of your clothes.

“…Dry my hair.”

You smiled, reaching for a towel. You ran the towel through his hair, drying it gently, your fingers threading through the strands. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting himself sink into the sensation. It was humiliating how much he craved this—your touch, your attention.

Once his hair was dry, you reached for a comb. You worked through the tangles slowly, each stroke comforting. His breathing slowed. His body relaxed further, his head tilting into your hands, seeking more without realizing it.

You chuckled softly. "You're getting comfortable."

He didn't answer. He barely even opened his eyes.

You hummed, continuing your ministrations, combing through his hair with a slow rhythm. He was like a cat—prickly, stubborn, but once he let himself be touched, he melted into it.

His body grew heavier against you, his breaths deep and steady. His grip on reality was slipping, exhaustion taking over.

You set the comb aside, fingers ghosting over his forehead.

"Lull me to sleep" he murmured, barely audible.

"Demanding, aren't we?"

With a soft sigh, you shifted, letting his head rest against your lap, your fingers continuing their slow, gentle strokes through his hair.

"Sleep" you whispered.

Kaiser obeyed.

----

The moment his eyes fluttered open, he knew something was different. The air was still, the space quiet. His body felt rested, unusually so. He shifted slightly, the warmth that had lulled him to sleep now gone.

The door was left open.

Instinct screamed at him to move, to run. He knew you wouldn’t let him go so easily, but the door being open—was it a test? A trick? Or an actual chance at freedom?

He should stay. That was the safer option. That was what his rational mind told him. And yet, his body acted before his thoughts could catch up.

He bolted. But the moment he crossed the threshold—

A firm presence blocked his path.

The butler.

Kaiser barely had time to react before a sharp impact landed against his side. A precise, measured strike—not enough to cause serious harm, but enough to stagger him. Another hit followed, this time against his back. He gritted his teeth, his knees buckling.

His mind reeled, a flood of memories crashing down. The echoes of past abuse, of hands that struck without hesitation.

“Enough!”

Your voice cut through the air like a blade.

You stood at the doorway, eyes blazing with fury. In an instant, you crossed the space between you, grabbing the butler’s wrist before the next strike could land.

“I told you to stop him, not to hit him” you hissed. Your grip was tight, unyielding. The butler didn’t flinch, but he lowered his head in silent acknowledgment.

Kaiser was trembling. His hands dug into the floor beneath him, his body screaming in protest. His breath was uneven, his mind still caught between the past and the present.

You turned toward him, expression shifting—anger giving way to something else.

You knelt beside him, your movements slower, more deliberate now. “Leave!” you ordered the butler.

With a quiet nod, the man stepped back, exiting the room without another word.

The door clicked shut.

You reached out, but Kaiser flinched.

Your fingers hovered near his arm before you pulled back slightly, your voice softer now. “I’ll grab the medical kit.”

And then, you stood and walked away, leaving him with nothing but the sound of his own unsteady breathing.

You worked in silence.

Kaiser didn’t speak. Didn’t react. He barely even moved as you cleaned his wounds, your hands steady but gentle.

The bruises forming along his ribs, the faint tremor in his hands—it wasn’t just from what happened today. It was deeper than that, buried in a place he didn’t want to revisit.

You didn’t push him. When you finished, you packed away the medical supplies, standing up to leave.

That’s when you felt it. A weak tug at your sleeve. You stopped. Looked down.

His fingers were curled around the fabric, holding onto you—not forcefully. Just enough to stop you from walking away.

He still didn’t say a word.

He didn’t want to be alone.

For a moment, you hesitated.

Then, slowly, you sat back down.

You didn’t speak either.

You just stayed.

----

The next day, the butler entered the room, carrying a tray of food. The usual routine.

But neither of you reached for it.

Kaiser didn’t even spare him a glance, his jaw tight, his entire posture stiff with resentment. It wasn’t just about yesterday—it was everything, all the times the butler followed orders without question. The man had never been particularly cruel, but he had still been an extension of your will, an obstacle Kaiser despised.

You noticed the tension immediately.

With a sigh, you turned to the butler. "Leave."

The man hesitated for only a second before bowing his head and silently obeying. The door shut behind him, leaving just the two of you.

A heavy silence settled between you.

Kaiser eyed the meal in front of him, fingers tapping absently against the sheets. He still looked irritated, but there was something else beneath it—something calculating, something playful.

Then, to your surprise, he spoke.

"I’ll feed you."

Your eyes widened slightly, caught off guard.

He looked at you, waiting. There was no smug grin, no sharp-edged remark—just a statement, plain and simple.

Then, as if realizing how ridiculous it sounded, he clicked his tongue and looked away. "Tch. Forget it."

But you only smiled.

"Gladly" you said, leaning in.

He wasn’t expecting you to agree so easily.

Kaiser hesitated, his fingers hovering over the tray. He was always quick to talk, quick to bite back, but now, faced with your unwavering acceptance, he seemed unsure of what to do next.

He clicked his tongue again, scoffing as if regretting his offer. "You're enjoying this too much" he muttered, picking up a spoon.

You only smiled, watching him closely.

He scooped up some of the food and held it up to you. His movements were sharp, almost annoyed, but there was a hint of something else beneath it—something careful.

"Open" he said flatly.

You did as told, lips parting as he placed the spoon inside your mouth.

His fingers tensed when they brushed your lips, just for a second. He quickly pulled away, looking to the side as if nothing had happened.

You chewed slowly, letting the silence stretch between you.

“…Good?” he asked, almost reluctantly.

You swallowed, tilting your head slightly. "Mmm. Maybe another bite to be sure?"

He shot you a glare but complied, bringing another spoonful to your lips.

This time, his movements were slower. Less forceful.

It was strange—watching him like this. Someone who once refused to even look at you without seething hatred now sat before you, feeding you with his own hands.

Kaiser didn’t say anything else, but he kept going, one bite after another.

You left Kaiser there, letting him sit with his thoughts. He had already come so far—his resistance, once sharp and unyielding, was softening, bending under your presence. But you knew there was still something inside him, a final shred of defiance keeping him from fully submitting.

That last straw.

And you would pull it.

As you stepped into another room, you reached for a device, calling for the butler. It didn’t take long before he arrived, standing before you with the same unwavering composure as always.

“I need your input” you said, leaning back against your chair. “I want him to break completely. No more games, no more resistance. What do you suggest?”

The butler remained silent for a moment, considering.

“There are many ways to achieve what you desire.” he finally said. “You could strip him of his independence further. Take away any illusion of choice. Make him need you.”

You hummed, waiting for him to continue.

“Drugs are an option,” he went on, voice cold and practical. “Something mild at first—enough to weaken his mind, to make him more reliant on you. Eventually, he will associate his well-being with your presence alone.”

He paused.

“Or,” he said, tilting his head slightly, “you could take another approach. Loneliness is a powerful tool. If he has begun to seek your company, taking it away will make him desperate. When you return, he will cling to you of his own will.”

You tapped your fingers against the armrest, deep in thought.

The butler had always been efficient. His suggestions were logical, precise.

Now, the only question was—

How did you want to break Kaiser?

The plan was simple.

You didn’t need to go too far—just a slight dosage. Enough to stir something inside him, enough to cloud his mind with heat and frustration, but not enough to push him into action.

And so, you slipped the drug into his meal, watching as he ate without suspicion. You stayed for a little while, observing the subtle changes—the way his breathing became uneven, the way he shifted uncomfortably. His hands twitched slightly, clenching and unclenching against the sheets.

But he did nothing.

He gritted his teeth, swallowing hard, as if willing his body to behave.

You smiled.

It was good that he didn’t act on it. It meant he was still trying to resist, still clinging to that last thread of defiance.

So, you left.

And when he woke the next day, alone once again, with no trace of what had happened the night before—he would wonder if it was all in his head.

Just a trick of his imagination.

Then, you were gone for a while, leaving him in the butler’s care.

At first, he was indifferent. Bitter, but silent. He ate when necessary, did nothing more than the bare minimum to function.

But time dragged on.

And then, one day, something interesting happened.

The butler was tending to him as usual when Kaiser scoffed under his breath.

“She must have found a new entertainment.”

The butler didn’t react.

Kaiser leaned back against the bed, tilting his head, pretending as if it didn’t bother him.

“A new toy to play with” he continued, voice bitter. His fingers gripped the sheets beneath him, a muscle in his jaw ticking.

“She didn’t love me as much as she claimed, huh?”

The butler merely continued his task, silent as ever. But he had heard the words.

And when you returned, he would report them to you.

The butler greeted you as usual, but before you could even ask, he spoke.

“He has been restless” he informed you. “And he made an interesting remark.”

You raised an eyebrow, motioning for him to continue.

“He believes you’ve grown bored of him.” The butler's voice remained neutral, but there was a faint pause before his next words. “That you have found a… new toy to entertain yourself with.”

A slow smile curled on your lips.

So that was it.

Kaiser’s resentment, his pride, his bitterness—it was all still there, but now, mixed in with it, was something else.

Jealousy.

Possessiveness.

He wouldn’t dare admit it outright, but it was clear. He had spent so long resisting you, hating you, pushing you away—only to now fear that you would be the one to leave him.

How ironic.

You dismissed the butler with a wave of your hand. “I’ll handle him.”

As you made your way to his room, you kept your expression composed, but inside, you were savoring this moment.

When you pushed the door open, Kaiser was sitting on the edge of the bed, his arms crossed, his usual cocky expression nowhere to be seen. His eyes flicked toward you briefly before turning away.

You stepped closer.

“You don’t seem very happy to see me” you teased, watching him carefully.

“I didn’t realize I was supposed to be.”

“Oh? But I thought you missed me.”

His eyes snapped back to yours, sharp with irritation. “Tch. Who said that?”

“No one had to.”

You leaned in, lowering your voice. “Tell me, Kaiser… Were you lonely without me?”

His glare was immediate. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

But there was something different about him now.

The way he refused to meet your gaze.

The way his breathing hitched when you got too close.

The way he was trying—desperately—to deny what you already knew.

You had finally found the last thread holding him together.

And all you had to do now—

Was pull.

"Alright then" you said, feigning disinterest as you turned to leave.

But before you could take another step, a hand shot out, gripping your wrist.

"Kaiser?"

His jaw clenched. He refused to look at you directly, his lips pressing into a thin line, but his grip on you remained.

“…You were gone for a while”

You raised an eyebrow. "And?"

“Nothing. Just saying.”

You smiled, taking a step closer, watching as his body stiffened under your gaze. "How sweet. Were you worried about me?"

"As if."

You hummed in amusement, but your eyes flicked downward, landing on the faint bruises still littering his skin. It wasn’t pleasant to look at, even for you.

With a sigh, you freed yourself from his grasp and reached for the medical kit.

His brows furrowed. "What are you—"

"You're an eyesore like this" you interrupted smoothly, pulling out the best ointment you had. "It's about time I make you look good again."

Kaiser scoffed, but he didn't protest when you gently ran your fingers over his injuries, pressing lightly to test the pain.

He hissed through his teeth, body flinching under your touch.

"Still sensitive?" you mused, dragging your fingers along his skin just to see how much more he’d react.

"Stop playing around."

"But it's so easy"

The dressing was applied with care—perhaps more care than he deserved. The cool sensation of the medicine seeped into his wounds, easing the ache, but he couldn't ignore the feeling of your hands on him.

Every time he tensed, every small reaction—his body betraying him—it only made you want to push further.

"You're being awfully well-behaved today" you teased, pressing down slightly more than necessary.

"Maybe because I want this damn pain to go away?"

You smirked. "Oh? Not because you missed my touch?"

Kaiser scowled, but his ears burned faintly.

"There" you said, admiring your work. "Much better."

"You're insufferable."

"And yet," you whispered, trailing a finger along his jaw just to watch him flinch, "you still don’t want me to leave."

You leaned back, inspecting your work with satisfaction before meeting his gaze again.

“It’ll take some time for the ointment to work” you murmured, brushing your fingers lightly over the bandages, watching as his muscles twitched beneath your touch. “So for now, I won’t touch you.”

"You can do it if you want to" he muttered, his voice quieter than usual.

Before you could respond, he moved.

His fingers curled around your wrist again, this time more deliberate. And in the next second, he pulled you forward—lips brushing against yours. But just as quickly, you shoved him back—intentionally pressing against the very spot you had just treated.

Kaiser flinched, his body jerking at the sudden sting of pain.

“I didn’t tell you that you were allowed to make a move”

You leaned in, your fingers lightly tracing over his bandaged skin, just to remind him of what you could do to him.

“If there’s something you want…” you murmured, your lips curving into a smirk. “Say it out loud.”

His jaw clenched, irritation flashing through his eyes.

But beneath that, there was something else.

Something far more intriguing.

“…Kiss me”

“Hmm? I didn’t quite hear you.”

“Kiss me” he repeated, this time firmer.

A slow smile curled on your lips. And in the next second, you pushed him down onto the bed, your body effortlessly moving to straddle his waist.

Kaiser didn’t resist.

He just let you.

Your fingers started at his neck, tracing down slowly, feeling his pulse quicken beneath your touch. Down his collarbone, down his chest, over the fabric barely covering his stomach. You felt every breath he took, every slight shift of his body beneath you.

Then, you leaned in.

Your lips hovered just over his ear before you let your tongue flick out, tracing the shell of it slowly, deliberately.

He shivered.

“You’re finally being honest” you murmured, voice dripping with sweetness. “That’s good.”

Your teeth scraped against his earlobe, a playful nibble, followed by a hot breath that made him swallow hard.

“You’re mine, Kaiser” you whispered, hand pressing against his stomach, feeling the tension in his muscles. “Everything about you—your body, your thoughts, your words—belong to me.”

“…I-I’m yours.” he repeated.

#yandere #yandere reader #bllk kaiser #michael kaiser #blue lock kaiser #kaiser x reader #blue lock

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amomentsescape · 1 year ago

Note

Eldritch monster anon here! So to answer your question, yep that image you shared is what I have in mind ^^

Slashers with Reader Who's Secretly an Eldritch Horror

Slashers x Reader

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, Bo, & Lester

A/N: I'm not super confident I wrote Reader correctly, and I didn't go into too much depth about what they look like or everything they're capable of, so I hope you still like it! You can find the original request here.

Freddy Krueger

He can't help but fantasize of the damage you two can cause when together

He sensed something was a little different about you from the beginning

But he didn't think it would be quite this drastic

What's funny though is that he thinks you don't know that he's found out about you

He's dead wrong

But it's kind of a game to you, and you're having fun with it

He's "secretly" caught you distorting the people and things around you

And he admires that fact since he does the same thing in his Dream World

You were hoping he'd catch on sooner

But oh well

It's just more fun that way

Michael Myers

He somehow doesn't know already, and you kind of want to keep it that way

Michael has this thing with power

He knows he's unstoppable, chaotic, and deadly

And he likes it that way

If he ever found out about the things you're capable of...

It would not be good

Your partnership would go from providing to battling

He wants- needs to be the monster in the relationship

And although you have the upper hand on him, he would not go down without a fight

He knows there's a darkness brewing in you

He just doesn't know quite what it is

And let's hope it stays that way

Jason Voorhees

He honestly learns about what you are pretty early on

He didn't really assume anything was off about you, but he was so open and sweet to you that you felt comfortable enough to tell him about everything

And knowing that he's not the most dangerous being around is somewhat... nice

He really admires your power and strength

And it feels good to be able to leave for a while and not worry that something will happen to you

You are more than capable of protecting yourself, and that lifts a huge weight off of Jason's shoulders

Perhaps he's too trusting, but he doesn't worry about you turning that dark power on him

You've only showed him genuine love and care, so he feels like he has nothing to worry about

Thomas Hewitt

Perhaps he's being a little naive

The way you immediately ate his "dinner" without so much as a question

The sudden increase of people coming by the house and being captured

How you come out of the most dangerous areas unscathed

There is clearly something about you that isn't... normal

But it's not his place to question it

He loves you, and you love him

End of story

Even if he did start to question what's really going on, he wouldn't press the matter

He figures you'll open up to him whenever you're ready

And if that's never, then so be it

Bubba Sawyer

He's just a sweet, naive man

You could literally show your true colors right in front of his eyes, and he'd still have no clue

But it doesn't really matter

He loves you for you no matter what you look like or what you're capable of

As long as you still care for him like this, you can do whatever you want

He will admit that his family has had a much easier time getting "food" than ever before

And those that do come by are really easy to capture since you've been with him

But those are just coincidences, surely

You're his sweet angel

He has to protect you

Little does he know that you really can handle yourself...

Brahms Heelshire

He has found it a little odd that the food still arrives on time without so much as a word from Malcolm

And he hasn't seen a single soul since you began to staying with him

But he's very happy with all of this, so he doesn't question it

He can sense that you're a little... different than other people

But that's part of the reason he likes you so much in the first place

He only realizes the true extent to this theory when you somehow force him to bed without so much as a touch

He was completely flabbergasted at this, but he didn't dare question it

Safe to say that he has no intention on giving you a hard time again

Norman Bates

He doesn't question a thing

If anything, you're his good luck charm since all of these good things started to happen when you showed up

The motel business is booming

Any issues he was dealing with seemed to disappear in plain sight

Everything seems to be going his way for once

Mother keeps telling him there's something off about you, but he ignores her

What does she mean?

You're his sweet and perfect partner

There's nothing else to it

You want to show him the truth at some point, but he just seems so happy right now

Maybe you'll tell him later

Billy Loomis

Billy straight up demands for you to tell him what's going on

Unlike a lot of people, Billy follows his gut instinct

He's known something was up with since you two started seeing each other

His world was just too... perfect

And he swears that there's this dark aura that surrounds your head at all hours of the day

It's only after his latest kill went too well that he interrogates you

When you tell him, he asks you to prove it

The look on his face when you showed him just what you were was enough to send you into a fit of laughter

To be honest, Billy is a little bit scared of you now

Knowing that you're capable of literally taking him out of existence is intimidating to say the least

Best believe Billy is going to do his best not to get on your bad side

Stu Macher

Stu is true golden retriever energy

Meaning, he is very sweet and loving towards you, but there's not much else going on inside that brain of his

He doesn't suspect a single thing with you

You are his perfect partner, and that's about it

Sure, his killings with Billy have been going super well, and he always comes out unscathed

Yeah, that person who shushed him in the movie theater was found completely mutilated the next day

What about it?

You wouldn't have anything to do with it

Stu just thinks that you are made out of 100% innocence

And you kind of like it that way

You'll tell him when you're ready

Until then, you just appreciate Stu treating you like a person and not some powerful God

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent has been finding himself with a new sense of inspiration for his wax art

He dreams of this ethereal yet terrifying being he has never seen before

He's told you about the dreams, and you always respond with a soft smile and a "that's interesting"

Vincent as no clue that you're the creature he's been seeing

And you must say, his art is pretty damn accurate

You didn't have any intentions on telling him the truth, at least not right away

But the way he sees this version of you as his muse makes you want to say something sooner

He's basically idolizing you, and he doesn't even know it

Not that he doesn't act this way with you normally

But how fun it could be to see his reaction once you tell him the truth

Bo Sinclair

Maybe he suspects something is going on, but he doesn't say anything

Ignorance is bliss

And although he's usually one to demand what he wants to know, he doesn't quite feel comfortable doing that with you

There's something in those eyes of yours that tells him he may be better off not knowing

Plus, things for him and Ambrose have been going suspiciously well for him

He literally had some random man run up to him begging to become one of the wax figures

This is all just odd

And he knows you're hiding something by the way you smile at him

But everything is so perfect that he doesn't want to ruin it

So for now, let him be ignorant

Lester Sinclair

He's never really been in a relationship as passionate as this one before

So you best believe any single thought or doubt that goes through his head is immediately thrown out

He loves you, and you're so nice to him

There's no way you could be hiding something from him, right?

I mean, it's a little odd how you seem to appear from thin air, and your hair never has a single strand out of place

There was something that feels... not real

But that's just crazy

He probably only feels that way because of how perfect he thinks you are

Until you explicitly stand before him in your true form, he's going to just ignore these thoughts

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stardustedseas · 3 months ago

Text

gnawing on the fucking walls dude imagine working in the archives and michael distortion likes to see how often it can steal you away for random quickies in his hallways. it especially likes to keep you from doing stuff for elias and the eye, like you will be bringing some new statements to jon but instead of walking into the archives, you're suddenly in those bright halls with long fingers quickly wrapping around your body. time is weird in his domain so it's hard to keep track of 'just a few kisses before you really have to get back'

especially when the thing youre kissing is very good at making your mind and body practically melt, scrambling your thoughts and forgetting that you were supposed to be doing something else. if you forgot then it must not have been very important, right? just focus on the long tongue slithering down your throat and the thick, dangerous fingers dipping into your pants

sometimes if you are feeling especially pent up or just need a break from the constant feeling of your every move being watched, you go against your better judgement and seek out his doors instead, willingly entering them. is it smart? no. is there a very high possibility that you won't come back out? yes. do you care? honestly, not as much as you should. michael is a familiar danger and so far youve had far better experiences with him than any other entity youve been unlucky enough to encounter. sometimes its nice to take a break to sit down on the surprisingly soft carpet and just breath. still, you do try to leave your jacket or a book propping the door open, keeping it from fully closing and never straying too far from it. michael has never severely harmed you or fully kept you trapped, but he is still an avatar and can never be fully trusted or predictable.

(he takes great satisfaction in knowing it can distract you/keep you from serving your supposed master and being with him instead, knowing despite being bound to the archives, you are still more loyal to him lmao)

#michael distortion x reader #i will hopefully come back to this #mostly just sludge in my brain lmao

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another-lost-mc · 2 years ago

Text

More than temptation awaits you at Purgatory Hall.

MICHAEL x SIMEON x RAPHAEL x gn!Reader, 2.4k words, NSFW.

Content warnings: Canon-typical vampire behaviour (biting/blood drinking). Dub-con and dark themes including manipulative behaviour, power imbalance, mind-altering magic. Dom/sub dynamics, teasing, masturbation, oral sex, overstimulation, praise kink, corruption kink, pet name used for Reader (little lamb). gn!Reader (they/them pronouns).