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bossbtch1 · 5 months

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Golden Boy of America

Summary : What if Steve Rogers wasn't the revered symbol of American virtue that everyone believed him to be? Contrary to the public perception of his kindness and charm, you've come to realize it was all a façade. Now, you find yourself in a nightmarish scenario—kidnapped and bound, questioning everything you thought you knew about the man once hailed as the golden boy of America.

Pairings : Dark!Steve Rogers x f!reader

Words : 6,9k

General tags : SMUT, 18+, NSFW

TW : dark fic, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, degradation, non-con, dirty talk, oral sex, smut, vibrator, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, rough sex, p in v, overstimulation, breeding kink, forced impregnation

A/N : This has been sitting in my drafts for a while, and I've been going back and forth, tweaking the story to add a darker twist. I've always felt like there's more beneath the surface of Captain America's heroic façade, he did good and sacrificed everything for the world. What if he's not as perfect as he seemed? And you had to be the one who found out about his true side, his dark side. That's the premise of this one shot, enjoy~

Before you continue, please read TW again. This is a dark!fic and explicit, strictly for readers 18+. I don't condone any of this kind of thinking in real life, this is purely fan fiction. Please, DO NOT PROCEED if these themes disturb you. Please don't read if this content is not your cup of tea, you've been warned.

My masterlist

The sound of a car door slamming shut is the last thing you remember before everything went black. A dull ache in your head is what you first felt when you woke up.

When you open your eyes, you find that your hands and legs are bounded by rope and tape, the coldness of the floor and walls send shivers down your spine. It takes a few seconds for you to process the situation you were in. The first thing that came into mind was where you were, who did this and why? Your memories were all a blur, you can't remember how you got into this predicament.

You hear a door open from somewhere, it echoes in the empty space, making the hairs on your arm stand up. You start to feel anxious and scared as your heart beats loudly. "Hello?" You say and the voice bounces off the walls, not knowing who was behind this.

"Good, you're awake now." A familiar voice speaks out, walking into the room. Your eyes widen in shock, mouth agape.

"S-Steve? W-What's going on? Why am I here?" You ask him, fear evident in your voice. Steve doesn't answer and stares at you blankly. He's standing right in front of you. "Answer me!" You demand but he remains silent, only looking at you.

"You don't have the right to tell me what to do." He said with a dark expression.

"What the fuck, Steve!" you said as you were tied to a chair. The ropes were tight enough to not get out of but loose enough so it doesn't hurt. "Let me go, Steve, you bastard!"

He was standing in front of you with his arms crossed and a stoic expression. His jaw was clenched tight and he looked like he was going to kill someone.

"Why should I? So, you can escape and go tell on me? Tell everyone what a bad man I am? Huh?" Steve said as he walked up to you and grabbed your chin forcing you to look at him. "You know I can't let you do that."

He kept you in a small bedroom. The wallpaper was torn, revealing the rotten wood behind it. A single bed and a rickety drawer stood as the only furnishings. The window had its shutters closed, allowed no glimpse of the outside world and there was only a single light bulb illuminating the room. It gave a very eerie feeling.

"Steve, let me go." You said in a low voice.

"I can't do that." He said, running his fingers through his hair. "If I do, they will find me and put me in jail."

"Steve, they will not find you. I swear I won't tell anyone." You said as you tried to get up. But Steve came up and pushed you back to the chair.

"Stop. Fucking. Moving." He said in a menacing tone. "You're not the boss here. I am." He said.

"Do you think you can just imprison me like this?" you shouted, your voice cracking with frustration. "What you're doing is cruel and inhumane!"

A chilling smile crept across Steve's lips as he retorted, "Oh, I can, and I will. You're not the first, and you won't be the last. I have my reasons, and I won't let you ruin everything I've worked for."

Your voice trembled with shock and disbelief, "What do you mean I'm not the first? There were others before me? What happened to them? Who are you?!"

"I've always been Steve Rogers, the same person you met and fell for. As for the others, they were my mistakes, and I fixed them." Steve replied in a casual tone as if talking about the weather. "Don't worry, sweetheart, you won't have to worry about that. I won't make the same mistakes twice."

"What happened to them?" you asked, feeling the blood drain from your face.

"That's none of your concern, sweetheart. You don't need to worry about them. All you need to worry about is obeying me."

You couldn't believe that the man in front of you was the same person you'd known. "I will not obey you, Steve."

He laughed as he sat on the bed, "You’re not the Steve I know. You're fucking insane! You're no hero!" You screamed at him, "I saw you kill that man, Steve. You took his life without a shred of remorse."

He shook his head. "Y/N it was necessary. He was a criminal, and it was self-defense."

"No it wasn’t!" you raised your voice. “You had other options, you could have spared his life, but you didn't. You killed him because you're a psychopath!"

He ignored your statement and said, "I told you, you should have never followed me. You've made this very hard for yourself." He crossed his arm, "I warned you, I tried so fucking hard so you wouldn't see any of this, but you just had to follow me."

He was right, if you listened to him and didn’t follow him, you wouldn’t end up like this. You didn't know how to respond.

"How do I know you're not going to kill me next?"

"Oh, please, if I was going to kill you, I would have done it the minute I brought you here." He said, rolling his eyes. "Besides, why would I kill you when you could be so much more useful to me alive."

"Useful?"

"Yeah. I could use some help." He said as he walked closer to you.

"What kind of help?" you asked.

He smirked and licked his lips. "The fun kind."

"Steve, what are you talking about?" you asked, fearing the answer.

He leaned in closer and whispered into your ear. "I'm sure you'll be a good girl and obey."

You didn't like where this was going. "Steve, please let me go." you whispered, trying not to cry. You were scared, you were tied to a chair and no one knew where you were. You were scared of what Steve was going to do to you.

"You're begging already?" He laughed dryly. "It hasn't even been 20 minutes."

"Please." You sighed and tried to break free from the ropes. "You can't keep me here, Steve. Please"

"I can do anything I want." he whispered, his face getting closer to yours. You tried to lean back, but there was no room. You could feel his breath fanning over your face. You shut your eyes.

"You don't want to do this, Steve." You said.

"Don't I?" he asked, tilting his head. "Because it seems like I do."

"Please..." You opened your eyes, you had tears forming in them. You were scared, he could do anything he wanted to you, and there was nothing you could do about it.

"You look so pretty when you beg, you know that?" he said, his face inches from yours.

"Steve, don't do this. Please" You begged.

He ran his fingers over your cheek and wiped away the tear that was threatening to fall. "Shame that it had to be like this."

"Steve... I-I promise I won't tell anyone." you whimpered, flinching at his touch. You didn't want him to touch you.

He shook his head. "You've seen what I did."

"It was an accident. We can get out of this," you pleaded, your voice laden with desperation, seeking any flicker of empathy in his eyes.

"No. We can't. This was inevitable. Don't worry, sweetheart. You're going to love it here," Steve declared with an unsettling certainty, his tone almost comforting, as if he genuinely believed the twisted reality he was creating.

"Steve, please. You can't keep me here. If not for you, at least do it for our friendship. Please, let me go"

"This will be the last time you beg, Y/N. I will not repeat myself. You're not going anywhere. This will be your new home"

"It won't be," you insisted, defiance laced with fear.

"You'll see, in time, you'll change your mind." Steve's response echoed through the room, the unsettling assurance leaving you with a sinking feeling of dread as the realization set in that escape seemed increasingly improbable.

The room seemed to close in, the peeling wallpaper and the flickering light bulb casting eerie shadows that danced around the space, creating an atmosphere of both captivity and impending menace.

Your hand struggled against the rope as you watched him. Your eyes wide and frightened. "You see, my sweet Y/N. I've got my eye on you for quite a while. Maybe after I've had my fun with you, I'll consider letting you go. Who knows" he smiled at you, his hand caressing your lips. You felt sick.

"Don't you dare touch me" you hissed, jerking your face away from him. His eyes flashed with anger for a second before it was gone.

"You don't have a choice" he chuckled. He took hold of your jaw and brought his face closer to yours, his lips a breath away. "I will enjoy making you scream and beg for mercy."

You felt his hands trail down your neck and down to the top of your shirt. He looked up at you before ripping your shirt open, making the buttons fly across the room. You gasped as you felt the cool air hit your skin. You were left in your bra, the thin lace fabric the only thing protecting you.

"Don't"

"Don't what?" He grinned and pulled your bra straps down, exposing your breasts. You tried to cover yourself but you couldn't. You were still tied to the chair, and he was stronger than you.

"Please. Just stop" You felt tears roll down your cheeks.

"Oh, honey. This is just the beginning" He took one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger and twisted it, making you gasp in pain. He leaned down and took your other nipple into his mouth, sucking on it. You squirmed under his touch, trying to push him away, but he held onto your wrists and kept you in place.

"Stop! Please, Steve. I'm sorry!"

"No. I don't think you're sorry" he growled as he moved to your neck and bit down. He sucked on the sensitive skin, making sure he left a mark.

"Stop!" you exclaimed, trying to push him off you. He chuckled at your efforts, then next he was moving his hands down your waist and stopping at the top of your jeans.

"Now, be a good girl and stay still. Wouldn't want to ruin such pretty underwear, now would we?" he asked as he slowly pulled your pants down. Your breathing sped up and you started to squirm.

"Steve, stop, please, I'm sorry, just let me go, please" you pleaded, tears pricking your eyes. You couldn't believe that he was doing this.

"Stop with the dramatics, princess. It won't change a thing. Just sit back and enjoy, it'll feel better if you relax" he cooed, pulling your jeans down to your ankles. You felt a sob escape your throat as he looked down at you, his eyes looking hungry and lustful.

"Please, don't do this, Steve, please"

"Shh, princess, I'm going to make you feel good, okay? But, first, I gotta take these off" he murmured, reaching for your panties. Your breathing stopped, and you felt yourself shake.

"Steve" you whimpered, shaking your head. Tears were falling down your face, and Steve was wiping them away.

"Such a pretty sight. You're gonna look so pretty covered in my marks" he whispered as he leaned down and started to suck on your neck. You let out a strangled moan as you tried to move your head away from him.

"Get off, you creep" you groaned, trying to kick him away. He didn't seem fazed and just held your hips down. He was much stronger than you, and the more you struggled, the harder his grip became.

"That's it, baby. Squirming like a little slut" he murmured, moving his hand down and under your panties. You shook your head frantically, trying to kick him away again.

"Don't touch me, please" you begged, closing your legs tightly. He looked up at you, his blue eyes darkening with lust. "Steve, get off me!"

"You know, I've seen the way you've looked at me. Like a piece of meat" He was right, you couldn’t lie, you were attracted to him ever since you first saw him. Who wasn’t attracted to him? He was kind and gentle. Even right now after you found out who he really was, you still feel attracted to him. You knew you shouldn’t be.

“You’re disgusting!” You spat in defiance, you were in denial.

"You say that now, but I'll have you screaming my name"

"I'll never scream your name, you pervert."

"We’ll see about that, princess.” he murmured, kissing down your stomach. You shivered as you felt his warm breath fanning over your stomach. You didn't want him this close.

Steve then chuckled as he moving his fingers in circles on your clit. “You don’t want me but why are you already wet huh?” You were shaking your head, trying to get him to stop. But it felt so good.

Steve then chuckled as he moving his fingers in circles on your clit. “You don’t want me but you sure are wet, darling. So, what is it, hm? Tell me, are you wet because you want me or is it something else?” He pushed a finger inside of you, making you gasp. He began pumping his finger in and out, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Fuck. I've always wondered what you would feel like. So tight and warm." He continued pumping his finger in and out of you, and you tried to hold back a moan. You couldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing he was pleasuring you.

"Scream my name, princess."

"Never." You said through clenched teeth.

"That's fine, sweetheart, I can do this all day." He smirked.

You could feel his finger moving inside of you, hitting the spot that made your legs tremble. You tried to hold back a moan, but he knew what he was doing.

"Oh fuckkk," you whispered, a sob escaping your throat. His eyes were dark and hungry, and his movements became rougher.

"That's right, princess, be a good girl for me" he groaned, moving his fingers inside you. You moaned, feeling him thrust his fingers in and out. He moved his lips back to your neck, biting and sucking. He added another finger and curled his fingers inside of you.

You let out a small moan, and he smirked. "Come on, princess, you can do better than that."

He added a third finger and thrust them faster, making your hips buck. He was moving his fingers faster and faster, and you could feel yourself getting closer.

You couldn't stop the moans from escaping. Your body betrayed you.

He continued curling his fingers inside of you, and you felt a pressure building up.

"P-please, st-stop, I don't- I don't w-want" you whispered, a sob escaping your throat. His eyes were dark and hungry, and his movements became rougher.

"What, princess, don't wanna have some fun?"

"No, I-I don't want th-this"

"Stop lying to yourself, princess.” He said as he kissed your cheeks. “You're so pretty like this, Y/N. All vulnerable and defenseless"

"I'm not-"

"Oh, baby, I know. But don't worry, I'll make you feel so good."

"Fuck, Steve"

"That's right, baby, moan my name. You sound so beautiful." He laughed and continued thrusting his fingers. You squeezed your eyes shut as his fingers went deeper, hitting your g-spot.

"Beg me, princess. Beg me to make you come.” he said, moving his fingers faster. Your breathing sped up as he added a third finger, stretching your hole.

"Screw you!" You refused to beg him, not giving him the satisfaction.

"You will. You'll beg me to make you come, and then you'll beg me to fuck you. You'll beg me to use your body until I've had my fill."

You shook your head, biting your bottom lip. He began rubbing your clit again, causing your legs to shake. You could feel your climax approaching, and you didn't know whether to be relieved or scared. "I can feel how close you are. Say it, princess. Beg me."

Then when you were about to cum, he pulled his fingers out, leaving you feeling empty. You wanted to cry. "No!" You panted, trying to catch your breath.

"Not yet, princess. You know what I want, princess. Tell me." He purred, licking his fingers clean. You knew what he wanted, you still refused.

He laughed. "You're really gonna make me do this, aren't you?"

You were so confused. You didn't know what he meant. "You're gonna make me show you just how bad you need this."

He got up from the bed and walked over to the closet. He opened the doors and reached inside, pulling out a bag.

"What is that?" you asked, nervously.

He turned and looked at you. He opened the bag and pulled out a long, thin, pink vibrator. Your eyes went wide, you began to tremble. You were terrified. He was going to use that on you.

He held the vibrator up to your face and pressed a button, making it hum. You shook your head at him, "Steve No!"

He walked back over to you and crouched down in front of you. He ran his hand down your thigh, before spreading your legs, "Such a pretty pussy, princess." he murmured, tracing a finger along your folds.

He put the vibrator between your legs, pressing it against your clit.

"Fuck! Don't!" you moaned, trying to get away. He grabbed your hair and pulled you closer to him. "Oh, princess, you're gonna cum on this. Then, you're gonna cum on my cock. And, after that, you're gonna beg me for more."

You let out a sob as he pressed the vibrator harder against your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You could feel yourself getting close again. "Please, Steve."

He pressed the vibrator against your clit harder, making you moan. You didn't want him touching you there, but you couldn't stop the pleasure. "Tell me what you want, Y/N"

"Steve, I can't. I don't want it, I can't, please"

"But, you do, princess. You're already wet for me. You want this."

You shook your head, trying to get away from the vibrator. He held onto your hips, keeping you still. He leaned forward and licked your nipple. He sucked your nipple, making you arch your back.

He turned up the intensity of the vibrator, causing your hips to buck. He let go of your nipple and moved the vibrator lower, rubbing it against your entrance.

"Fuck! Stop, Steve. I-I can't. It's too much!"

"Oh, baby, this is nothing. Just wait until I start fucking you."

You were getting closer, the pleasure almost unbearable. "Steve, please. Stop. Please. I can't. I'm gonna-"

He turned up the intensity of the vibrator. "Say it. Or I'll make this last even longer. I'll keep you here all night, and the whole time, I'll be inside you."

You moaned and closed your eyes. "Please… Steve…”

He chuckled. "I like hearing you beg, princess." He turned the vibrator off and moved it back up to your clit. He slowly pushed it into your tight cunt.

"I can't…."

He smirked, "Oh, baby, we've just gotten started."

He turned the vibrator on and fucked you with it. You arched your back and moaned. He grabbed your hair and pulled you up. You let out a whimper as he kissed you, hard. He pulled away and licked your neck. "You're such a slut for me, princess. You will love it when I fuck you."

You shook your head, trying to get him to stop. "Please, Steve. Stop."

He ignored you, thrusting the vibrator deeper inside you.

You were about to cum when he suddenly pulled the vibrator out. "Steve, please, I need-"

Everytime you were close to cum, he would turn the vibrator off, making you frustrated and horny. "I can do this all day, princess."

You couldn't take it anymore, "Please Steve! Please let me cum, I can't take it anymore, please" You cried, tears streaming down your cheeks. You really needed to cum so bad, he was edging you so hard.

You hated yourself for begging him. He kept the vibrator pressed against your clit, and with his other hand, he began fucking you with his fingers again.

He grinned, "What's the magic word?"

"Please…."

"Wrong answer, princess." He chuckled and stood up. He turned the vibrator on and started walking towards you. He held the vibrator against your clit and rubbed it in slow circles. "Now, be a good girl and spread your legs."

You took a deep breath and slowly spread your legs, revealing your dripping cunt. “Good girl.”

"Yes, oh god, Steve, please." You were moaning and panting, trying to hold off your orgasm, but he was making it impossible. "I can't hold back much longer, Steve, I'm so close. Please don’t stop." You were moaning, you didn’t care for anything, you needed to cum.

But the moment you were about to cum, Steve stopped again, and removed the vibrator.

"Steve! No! Fuck!" You screamed, tears pricking your eyes. "What the fuck! Let me cum!"

He laughed, "So desperate. How long has it been since someone touched you like this? I can tell by your reactions that it's been a while." He turned on the vibrator again, “You will cum on my cock, now beg me to fuck you."

You were shaking, crying, "Fuck you, Steve. I'm not doing that."

He laughed, "Oh, I think you will. You're so desperate, Y/N, so close to the edge. You'll do anything to cum." He slowly undid his pants and stroking his cock in front of you.

Your eyes widened as you stared at his length, you didn't think it was possible for a man to have such a huge cock. But, the sight of him stroking his cock was making you even wetter, and you couldn't help but want him to fuck you.

"Tell me you want me, tell me how much you want my cock."

"Steve, no. Please." You tried to close your legs, but he put the vibrator between them, spreading your lips and pushing the vibrator inside.

"If you don't, I'll just leave you here. Alone. Unsatisfied."

You were quiet, you shouldn’t want him, you should hold a little longer but he was being so good to you. It had been long since a guy made you felt like this.

"Come on, princess. Tell me you want me to fuck you. Tell me how much you want me inside you. Tell me how bad you want my cock." He grinned as he kissed your clit, “I’ll give you as many orgasms as you want. I’ll fuck you better than any guy you know. I’ll make sure you will never be more satisfied than being with me again."

His words sent it toward your clit, you clenched your pussy hearing him said that. You were frustrated, sobbing, you needed release, and you didn't care about anything. You were going to beg.

You caved in, "Fine! Fuck me, Steve. Please fuck me. I need your cock, please!"

He leaned forward and kissed you. He bit down on your bottom lip, and you gasped. He chuckled, "I bet you'd let me do anything right now, wouldn't you, princess?"

He turned the vibrator back on and started fucking you with it. You were crying and moaning, begging him to let you cum. You could feel your orgasm approaching, and you couldn't hold back anymore. "Fuck, please, Steve, fuck. I'm so close, I'm gonna cum. Fuck."

"Cum for me, princess.”

You came screaming, your whole body convulsing. You were shaking and sweating, your body aching from the pleasure.

He turned off the vibrator and pulled it out of you. He kissed your cheek, "Such a good girl. I'm so proud of you, princess."

You were panting, trying to catch your breath. "I hate you."

"You don't mean that, baby. You're just a little overwhelmed. It's okay."

You looked at him, his eyes were soft and gentle, but you knew he was crazy. You were still tied up, helpless, and completely at his mercy. He was going to use his large cock to fuck you, and you couldn't do anything to stop him.

"Don't worry, princess, I'll take care of you. I promise."

He started to untie you and you were confused. Was he letting you go? You tried to scramble to ran away from him but you didn’t get far, he wrapped his arms on your waist lifting you. “Steve! Put me down now!”

He ignored you and brought you back to the bed. He put you down and pinned you, using his body weight to keep you still. "Don't think this changes anything."

He kissed you, hard and hungry. You tried to push him away but it was useless, he was too strong. "Fuck, baby, you taste so good." He kissed down your neck, biting and sucking as he went. He stopped at your breast, taking one nipple in his mouth and the other in his hand.

"Steve, please..."

"You want me to stop, Y/N?"

"Yes!"

"Well, that's too bad. Because I'm not stopping until I'm finished with you. And you're gonna love every minute of it. You're my girl, Y/N. I'm never letting you go.”

"No, please...don't...stop...don't hurt me, Steve."

He smirked, "I'm not going to hurt you, baby. I'm going to make you feel good."

He let go of your wrists and reached down between your legs. You gasped as his fingers found your clit, rubbing it in slow circles. "God, you're so wet. So wet and ready for me."

"Stop..."

"No. I'm not stopping, princess. You're going to come for me, just like you did with the vibrator. And then, I'm going to fuck you. I'm going to fuck you all night long."

You tried to wiggle away from him, but it was no use. He was too strong. You tried to kick him, “Princess.” He warned, you stopped your movement, his tone made you scared.

He then smiled, “Good girl.”

You were trapped, at his mercy. He was going to hurt you, he was going to fuck you, and there was nothing you could do about it. You were his.

He slipped a finger inside of you, moving it in and out slowly. "Fuck, baby, you're so tight. You're gonna feel so good on my cock."

He added a second finger, stretching you even more. He kept pumping them in and out of you, making sure to hit your g-spot every time. You could feel another orgasm building.

"Oh God...oh fuck, Steve...please..."

"Please what, baby? Do you want me to stop?"

"No...don't stop...fuck, Steve..."

"Tell me, Y/N. Tell me what you want."

"I want...I want you to fuck me."

"You're such a dirty girl, Y/N. You're gonna come for me, aren't you?"

"Yes...oh God, Steve...yes...I'm gonna cum." He fucked you faster, harder, his fingers pounding into you. You couldn't hold back anymore, you threw your head back and screamed his name as you came, your whole body shaking with pleasure.

"Fuck, that's it, baby. You’re so beautiful, princess.” He didn't stop, he kept fucking you, his fingers buried deep inside you. You couldn't believe how good it felt, you had never been fucked like this before.

He kept rubbing your clit, prolonging your orgasm. You were panting and moaning, trying to catch your breath. "That's it, princess. That's it. Just like that."

He moved down and spread your legs wide open. "Fuck, baby. You're so fucking wet."

He licked your slit, tasting your juices. You moaned as he lapped at your folds, sucking and licking like his life depended on it.

He pulled back and looked up at you, "You taste so fucking good, baby. I could eat you all day long."

"Oh, god...please, Steve..."

"Please, what, princess? You want me to fuck you?"

"Yes..."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, please, fuck me, Steve."

"Fuck, I love when you beg, princess."

His cock was rock hard, the tip leaking precum. He grabbed the base and stroked it a few times before positioning himself between your legs. He lined himself up with your entrance, rubbing the tip through your folds, coating it in your wetness. "Fuck... Steve… It's not going to fit."

"It'll fit, princess. I promise." He slowly pushing inside of you, letting you adjust to his size. It hurt, but the feeling of him stretching you was incredible. He was so big and you felt so full. "God, you're so tight, Y/N. So wet. Do you like my cock, baby? Do you like the way it feels?"

"Oh god, Steve. So full." You moaned.

He started moving, thrusting into you. The pace was slow and steady, letting you get used to his size. "God, you feel so fucking good, princess. So fucking good."

It hurt at first, but the pain soon turned to pleasure. You were moaning, begging him for more. "Steve...faster..."

He grinned, "You want it faster, baby? You want me to fuck you faster?"

"Yes...please...faster..."

He quickened his pace, pounding into you. He grabbed your legs and put them over his shoulders, changing the angle and hitting that spot inside you that made you see stars.

"Fuck, yes, Steve!"

"That's it, baby. Scream my name. Scream my name as I fuck you."

"Oh, god...yes...please, Steve... harder!"

He groaned and started slamming into you, fucking you hard and fast. "Fuck, baby. You're such a slut, begging me to fuck you harder."

You were lost in pleasure, moaning and screaming his name. "That's it, baby. Tell me how good it feels, princess. Tell me how much you love it. Tell me how much you love my cock inside you."

"So good, Steve...it feels so good...I love you fucking me, Steve."

"Yeah, you do, don't you? You love being fucked by me huh?" He growled and pounded into you, harder and faster.

"I love it...please, Steve, more..." He felt so good inside you, you should've hating him, but all you wanted was more. You shouldn’t want him but fuck no one ever fucked you this good. "Yes, Steve, oh god, yes. Please fuck me."

"Yeah, baby, I'll fuck you. I'll fuck you hard. I'll fuck you until you can't walk." He began thrusting his hips, fucking you hard and fast. He sped up his thrusts, slamming into you harder and deeper. You were lost in the pleasure, not caring about anything else. All that mattered was him and how good he made you feel.

You were so close, you could feel your orgasm building. "Steve...I'm gonna come."

"Yeah? You gonna come, baby? You gonna come on my cock?"

"Yes..."

"Yeah, you are. You're gonna come all over my cock. You're gonna come for me, baby. Come on, princess. Come for me." He then went to sucked your neck and then bit it, hard. "Rub your clit, baby. Make yourself come. Rub that fucking clit while I fuck you."

You obeyed, reaching down and rubbing your clit. It only took a few seconds before you were coming, screaming his name and digging your nails into his back.

"Fuck, yes, princess. That's it. Come for me."

You were coming down from your high and he was still pounding into you

You moaned and came, your body shaking with pleasure.

He didn't stop, he kept fucking you through your orgasm, prolonging it. You were so oversensitive and it was almost too much, but you didn't want him to stop.

He pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up. "Oh, God, yes, Steve!" He slammed back into you, his pace relentless. "You like that, princess? You like me fucking you?"

"Yes! Oh, God, yes! Don't stop!"

He reached around and rubbed your clit, making you moan even louder. "Come for me, princess. Come for me again. I want to hear you scream."

You were close, you could feel your orgasm building again. He pinched your clit and that was it. You came, screaming his name. He continued to fuck you, not slowing down at all.

"God, I love it when you scream, princess. Keep screaming for me."

You were barely coming down from your orgasm and he was already pushing you towards another one. You couldn't take it, it was too much. You were oversensitive and it was almost too much. He leaned forward and kissed your neck, whispering in your ear, "That's it, baby. Take my cock. Take it all."

"Steve, please...it's too much...it's too much..."

"Shh, princess. I know. I know. But you can take it. You can take it, can't you, baby?"

"Yes..."

"Yeah, I know. I know you can. You're my good girl, aren't you?" He grabbed your hair and pulled your head back. "Now, say it. Say you're my good girl."

"I'm your good girl."

"Fucking right you are." He said and went to fondled your breast while he pounded into you, his pace unforgiving. His trusts became erratic, you knew he was close.

Then you remember, he didn't wear a condom and you weren’t on birth control. "Please pull out! Don't come inside of me, please! I’m not on birth control!”

He stopped, but didn't pull out. "You're kidding, right? What's the point in fucking you if I don't come inside of that tight pussy of yours? I'm gonna fill you up, make you mine."

You started to panic. "Please, you'll get me pregnant. Please don't come inside of me."

"No, you're mine now. And I'm gonna breed you, just like you deserve. You're going to give me what I want and you're going to take it."

"Please, don't come inside of me." Your breath came in gasps, you couldn't hold back your moans anymore, even though you were crying. You tried to push him off, but he didn't let you, didn't stop fucking you.

"Please, please don't. I'll do anything you want. Please just pull out, I'll let you fuck me every morning. I'll be your good girl, please just not inside." You were sobbing now, but your cunt was dripping.

“Your body says otherwise, princess.” He picked up his pace again. Fuck, you like this, don't you? You're so wet. You want to have my babies, don't you? Fuck, yeah, you're a good girl, begging for my cum."

He felt you trying to pull away and he slapped your ass, hard. "You're not going anywhere, princess. You're going to stay here and take my cock. I’m gonna fuck a baby into you." He moaned, his thrusts were becoming more desperate, his hand left your waist and moved to your clit, rubbing hard.

You whimpered and he slapped your ass again. "Don't fight me, princess. Just let go and enjoy it. You're already mine, and now you're going to have my baby. We're going to have a family, Y/N. You're not leaving me."

You gave up, your body submitting to him. He was in complete control and there was nothing you could do. He kept fucking you, going even faster and harder. "There you go, baby. That's it. Let me take care of you."

Your pussy started to contract and you screamed, a wave of pleasure rolling through you. "Yeah, fuck. I knew you'd like this. Fuck, you're squeezing me, that's it. Take it, take it all, be a good girl and take it."

He moaned and pumped into you harder, until his hips stuttered and his cock pulsed.

"Ahhhh!" You cried as he spilled his seed inside of you, filling your insides. He groaned at the feeling of you, warm and wet, squeezing around him. He let go of your wrists and wrapped both his arms around your waist.

When he was finished, he stayed inside of you, breathing heavily. "Fuck, that was great. Best sex I ever had."

When he pulled out, you felt his come dripping down your leg. "We can't waste this, can we?" He thrusted his finger into you, gathering his come. You were still shaking, not able to comprehend what just happened.

He shoved his finger into your mouth. "You'll be a good girl, won't you? Now clean my fingers.”

He shoved his fingers into your mouth, you were too exhausted to do anything, just opened your mouth and let him shove his fingers down your throat.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you and the baby." He whispered. "You'll be the perfect mom."

"Oh, no. We're not done yet." He grabbed your face with his clean hand, and pulled you into a kiss. He pushed his tongue inside of your mouth, tasting his cum. "You're such a good girl. Now, I'll give you a reward."

He got down on his knees and pushed your legs apart, then leaned forward, licking your clit. You moaned at the feeling of his tongue against your sensitive skin, but quickly bit your lip, trying to keep quiet.

He looked up at you. "Don't worry, honey. I love the sounds you make. So sweet. Keep making those noises for me." He moved his tongue over your clit, slowly, teasing.

He licked and sucked at your clit, while you moaned, the sensation almost too much. "I know you're sore, honey. But I wanna hear you come on my tongue. Be a good girl and come for me, can you do that?"

"Yes."

He continued sucking your clit, and moved his hand down to your pussy, pushing his fingers inside. He moved his fingers in and out of your pussy, slowly, but it was still too much.

"Please, Steve, make me come."

"That's my good girl." He moved his fingers faster, sucking harder, rubbing your clit with his thumb. Your moans were louder, your whole body felt hot.

"Steve, oh god, oh god, I'm coming."

You felt him smile against your clit, his tongue moving faster, sucking and licking. Your moans became screams, your legs were shaking, you felt the pressure building in your belly, your whole body shaking. You came hard, squirting on his face.

"You taste so sweet." He got up from his knees, his cock hard again, and pressed it against your pussy.

"Please, not again. It's too much. I-I'm too tired. I can't...I don't have any more energy."

"I can give you energy, princess" He pushed into you, and you screamed, the feeling too intense. He pulled out and then slammed back into you, setting a brutal pace. He wrapped his arm around your waist, and moved his hips in a circular motion, the pressure in your belly building again.

You sighed, you didn't have any energy left. Steve had been non-stop ever since the day he took you, he didn't give you a single moment to rest. You were always filled with his cum. "You'll enjoy it, princess. You always do."

He started to thrust up into you, and you felt your orgasm building. "Oh, God, Steve!"

"That's it, baby, scream my name."

"Steve! Oh, God, Steve!"

You came, clenching around his cock. He groaned, and you felt him spill inside you, his hot cum filling you up. "Fuck, baby, you're so good."

He kissed you, and you could feel him getting hard inside of you again. "No, Steve, please. I can't..."

"Yes, you can, princess. I know you can."

He started to move again, and you knew you were in for a long night.

You couldn't help but moan, you could feel his thick length filling you up. His cum was still inside of you and it was a warm feeling. You were so tired and he could tell, "One more time, princess, and I'll let you sleep."

He was so big, and he hit all the right spots. You couldn't help but moan, it felt so good.

You had been his prisoner for weeks now and he had fucked you so many times, you lost count. You were covered in his cum, and he didn't let you leave the bed, he was obsessed with breeding you.

You moaned as he thrust deeper into you. He was so big and it felt so good. You were lost in the pleasure, forgetting about everything else. All that mattered was him and the way he made you feel.

"Say you want me to come inside of you."

"I want you to come inside of me, Steve."

“Beg me.”

“Please, Steve. I want your cum. Please fill me up.”

"Good girl." He kept his rhythm, the feeling of his cock inside of you was too much, but it was so good.

"Come for me, be a good girl and come for me."

Your body was shaking, you felt his cock throb and fill you up again, and then you were coming, your legs trembling, your moans loud.

"Fuck, yeah. You're such a good girl, so sweet, coming for me. So tight, fuck. Such a good girl."

His words sent you over the edge, your body convulsing as your orgasm washed over you. He held himself above you, watching your face, while he fucked you. His cock was still inside of you, twitching, the feeling so intense.

"And don't you forget it. You're mine, and no one else is gonna fuck you. Cause you're mine, and I'm gonna keep you pregnant, giving me all the babies I want."

You had been his prisoner for weeks now and he had fucked you so many times, you lost count. You were covered in his mark and seed, and he didn't let you leave the bed, he was obsessed with breeding you.

You didn't have a choice, he wouldn't let you go. He'd fuck you every day, until he had knocked you up. You didn't even want a baby, and he didn't care. He'd do whatever he wanted. You had no choice but to obey him. But he made you feel so good and gentle with you, you couldn't help but enjoy it.

You had given up, the police weren't going to find you. No one was. You were his prisoner, his plaything. And he was going to keep you forever.

But, in a twisted way, you didn't mind. Because he was always there for you, taking care of you, fucking you, loving you. You had never felt this way about anyone before. And deep down, you knew you were falling in love with him.

"I love you, Y/N. And I'm gonna take care of you, and our baby. Forever."

"I love you, too, Steve."

FIN

A/N : So what do you guys think? Let me know in the comments, I want to know about your thoughts!

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers smut #the winter soldier #captain america #steve rogers x y/n #dark!steve rogers #marvel x reader #steve rogers #dark fic #stockholm syndrome #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic

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ohposhers · 3 days

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*hands you clay, molded to look like clay like a small child gifting you a play dough creation they made in the garage*

thank you i love it

#Stockholm syndrome #giggling while i drew this #this is a joke if you gave me a clay clay id begrudgingly keep it on my desk #ask eddie

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savebylou · 2 months

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One Direction tribute on Niall's show!!!!

credit: holdOnEn see part of the colors here and here, the performance here.

#😭😭😭🤧#one direction #niall horan #tslot #the show live on tour #liam payne #louis tomlinson #zayn malik #harry styles #stockholm syndrome #niall's covers #1d covers #that is so sweet #i put the other photo so you can see the colors of the microphones in case ssomeone doesn't know #dublin n2

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saffronwritesstuff · 1 month

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𝐀𝐛𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

Summary: when you’re taken by your former lover,he turns into your only lifeline. Soon hate turns to love and you find yourself needing him like air. But will you put your morals aside and join him in his quest? Or will you rebel and stay true to your friends at camp?

Pairing: Luke Castellan × hypnos!Reader (reader is implied to be female)

W/C: 3.25k

Genre: Fluff + Angst ?(idek what to call this😭)

Warnings: some manipulation and Stockholm syndrome? Luke might be ooc. Lack of capitalization.

A/N: HEY YALL! Say a post about wanting more cabin diversity in x reader works and i just so happened to be working on this little thing☺️ hope yall enjoy it!

Fear. That was all you felt from the moment you opened your eyes.Fear,in a dark and lonely room.You could smell the sea nearby,but you truly could not tell if it was just a hallucination or if if was real.The last thing you remembered was going to sleep in your cosy bed at camp half-blood and the next moment you were woken by swaying and the sounds of water crashing against the hull of the ship. You glanced around the room,willing your eyes to adjust to the darkness when you were hit with a bright beam of light emanating from a now-open doorway.You squinted your eyes to see who or what was standing in the doorway when you were met with the familiar silhouette of our ex-boyfriend ,Luke Castellan. As if on instinct,you backed away from him into a wall of empty cardboard boxes,pressing yourself further against it the closer he came to you.you closed your eyes and began praying to any god that would listen when you suddenly felt him standing in front of you.you held your breath,now just hoping this was all a dream but when he placed his hand on your cheek ,lightly caressing it,did you realise this wasn’t some sick nightmare but an even worse reality.

You pulled his hand off your cheek,and dropped it,to which you,after having opened your eyes,saw he didn’t look very happy.

He sighed before speaking and all you could do was eye him cautiously and be ready in case he tried to attack.

“y’know y/n,I really thought we had something…you and i.”

Had something?? Of course you had! You and he had loved eachother..until he decided betray you and your home at camp half-blood.

You shot him a glare before spitting out, “we did Luke.But you threw it all away.you.not me.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you said this and that was enough to tell him you still loved him,or at the very least,cared for him and your relationship.

Perfect.

“you’re right y/n…it was my fault.im sorry.”

And with that he turned and left you in the dark again. You looked at the spot he’d been standing in,mere moments ago in complete disbelief . did he really just apologise for all of this? The whiplash from his complete 180 change in attitude was causing your head to spin.

You sank down to the floor,your back against the cardboard boxes and placed your head in your hands.A multitude of questions ran through your head.Questions you could have asked him if you’d been rational and not emotional just seconds before. Eventually you passed out from the stress,stressful situations always seemed to make you especially sleepy...

When you awoke next,you were still in the room you had fallen asleep in but this lime it was fully lit and you felt a hand stroking your hair. You groaned and looked up at who it was placing their hands on you to see luke again,you practically sprang up,all traces of sleep,disappearing within a literal blink of an eye, and scooted to the other side of the room.

He didn’t look angry,just hurt.

“hey…im not going to hurt you…promise” he said,raising his hands in surrender,you eyed him sceptically and stayed in your position to which he sighed and just sent a protein bar,one of your favourites actually,skidding across the floor to where you sat. he then got up and looked at you,his eyes filled with a kind of sadness you'd only seen the day he stabbed you while leaving your shared home of camp half-blood.

“please eat that at least? You must be starving..” and just as if on cue,your stomach growled lider than a hellhoud .You didn’t even dare reach for the food,though you knew you wanted it. But the moment he left,you crawled to it practically ripping the wrapper off but stopping just before taking a big bite. What if he poisoned the bar?what if it’s cursed? You contemplated the answers to your own questions and while you weren’t sure luke hadn’t tampered with it in someway, you decided to eat it. The hunger was just too hard to bear. After finishing the last crumb of the sugary bar, you let out a loud yawn and fell asleep.

The constant sleeping wasn’t really anything alien to you, you'd always been a sleepy head,being able to fall asleep practically anywhere and anytime you touched someone while tired it seemed to put them is drowsy mood aswell. However you never knew why and as it neither bothered you nor harmed you,you just ignored it.

This went on for what you assumed was the next few days. Luke would come in,give you some food and promptly leave with a kind request for you to actually eat.And over the next few days you’d begun to grow comfortable with him again.He never hurt you despite the fact he definitely could,and oddly enough you felt yourself actually relax when you awoke to find him beside you.now instead of running from his touch,you’d purposely pretend to be asleep to keep him there longer.

About a month after this pattern had been going on,you now found yourself having to hold yourself from snuggling upto him immediately after you found him next to you.you could feel your hate for the scar-faced brunette(blonde)disappear and in its place were feelings of trust and familiarity.feelings of peace even. You slowly began talking to him.

First it was little “thank you”s as you ate the food he’d brought you that day,and the little thanks slowly developed into actual questions and conversation. You began to actually talk to eachother! He answered all your questions and that was how you learned that you were on a ship called the princess Andromeda. A ship filled with monsters and the remains of the titan lord kronos. You knew that this sudden knowledge should have scared you,but all you felt was a strong need to keep the conversation going,to have luke next to you and in your company. You found yourself needing him. Going as far as to grab his hand and ask that he stay, to which he smiled and gladly obliged,hanging back for an additional 30 minutes. When he had to leave you made him promise to come back later and made a pinkie promise sealed with a kiss to the back of your palm to seal the deal,which,if you were being honest, left you with butterflies in your stomach and a red tint on your cheeks. You were falling in love all over again and for some reason your conscience made no protest.

You began to day dream about him and the things the two of you had done at camp. Not once did it register in your mind that it was he who was keeping you trapped.no.luke would never.not your luke. He’d managed to convince you that your friends at camp had abandoned you. That if they really cared about you,you’d be safe at camp by now instead of with him floating through the sea of monsters,on a ship carrying even more monsters.monsters he kept you safe from mind you. And quite frankly you didn’t see any flaws in his reasoning.your friends had abandoned you.your family.they'd all left you alone.but luke hadn’t.hed stayed with you.he kept you safe.

You began to rely on him completely after that realisation set In and you even truly felt like you'd do anything to keep him. Even kill…unless there was another way of course. He had you wrapped around his finger.

As this all unfolded,luke couldn’t help but smirk to himself in his private office aboard the princess Andromeda. With a little isolation and a whole lot of quality lies, he’d manage to warp your entire perception of reality,from your views on him to how you saw your friends at camp.He enjoyed having you under his thumb,it gave him a sense of sadistic pleasure that leading an entire fleet of monsters couldn't hold a torch to. The power he felt was almost intoxicating,but he had to keep a hold on himself.you were an important asset in his quest to revive kronos,and a mess up now could lead to fatal results.

Looking at his watch luke noticed that it was time for him to go see you. He stood before a mirror and adjusted his sweater and hair.If he was going to be the perfect prince of your delusions,he needed to look the part. After he felt that he looked good enough,he began making his way to your cell in the hold below the ships deck.He slowly opened the door just a little before peering in, a sugar-sweet smile plastered across his face

“hey y/n” he said casually as you looked at him like he’d hung the stars. “hey lukey” you said in a chipper tone,the smile radiating off your face was proof enough that today was the right day to carry out the next phase of his plan to get you to join him.

“hey,there’s someone I want you to meet,you think you’re up for it?” he asked looking at you with nothing but tenderness in his eyes.

“oh…who?” was all you asked,tilting your head to the side like a lost puppy. You’d just woken up from another nap and though you sounded fully awake, he could still see traces of sleep in your eyes.

he sat down beside you and noted how you scooted closer to him just a bit.

“well?” you prodded, “who is this mystery man,or …woman?” your face fell just a little as you realised that there was a probability that there was another woman in his life.

“well, it is a guy… and his name is…well he’s kinda my boss” he said,scanning your face for any trace of uncertainty .

You thought about it for a moment and then nodded.

“okay…is he scary? Do I need to dress to impress?” you asked with a wink to which he let out a breathy laugh, you watched him with hearts in your eyes, how was he so perfect?? Even the laughs he put little to no effort into sounded heavenly!

Your heart raced and you turned a bright shade of red as you let your imagination run wild. Thoughts of his and your futures, how you’d sail into the sunset on a quest to seek justice and revenge on those who’d forsaken you…

You’d only been pulled out of your reverie by his hand lightly holding yours in an attempt to help you up and off the floor. You took his hand and the moment you were up he exerted just enough force on your arm that you wouldn’t notice,but would also cause you to fall forward and into him.

You let out a little yelp and when you opened your eyes,your face was buried in his sweater. You immediately set yourself upright and bashfully adjusted your shirt. “uh..sorry about that,must not be fully awake”

“nah don’t worry about it…you wanna go freshen up a bit?”

you nodded at that and made an attempted to hold his hand before pulling away out of fear that you were pushing it. He of course noticed and took your hand in his, interlocking your fingers and smiling softly at you before leading you to the human restroom to freshen up.

You’d only ever had one restroom visit per day and even that wasn’t’ too long. You’d been escorted by a pair of bitchy looking empousa in cheer gear, and while you had never been able to clearly hear what they whispered amongst themselves but you were sure it had to do with how groggy you always were or how you always looked a mess, well what were you supposed to do? 20 minutes wasn’t nearly enough time for you to get ready let alone have an everything shower and get fully dressed and looking presentable.

So it was nice to have as much time as you needed as well as have Luke be the one escorting you. You watched as the monsters aboard the ship eyed your linked hands and when he felt you getting self conscious he only held your hand tighter and eventually unlinked your hands and just placed his palm on the small of your back.you were flustered to say the least.

Once at the restroom,you quickly freshened up and changed into a new set of clothes before setting out to meet Luke's aforementioned boss. You stepped into his office,it was in a part of the ship you’d never been allowed into and seeing such a pristine and refined space was actually shocking. Everything was organised and there wasn’t a single speck of dust to be seen.The room even smelled of English roses and vanilla, a scent you loved…was that on purpose? And the more you thought about it, the more you realise the room was cold…a lot colder than the rest of the ship and even the hold below.

In the center of the room was a huge golden sarcophagus with intricate carvings all along the sides.you of course couldn’t make any of them out from where you stood but even from that distance you knew they were heavily detailed.

You looked to Luke in confusion. “where is he?” you asked, eyes darted around the office of anyone even remotely boss-like

That was when he walked over to the sarcophagus and placed his hand on it,he held out his other hand for you to take and the moment you did,you both passed out.

You stood on a floor you could not see over an inky abyss. In the distance you could see the same sarcophagus from earlier,glowing,and beside it stood Luke. You rushed to his side and the closer you got, the colder you felt,but it didn’t really bother you.

You reached him and the moment you did you questioned him again to which he responded by pointing at the ancient relic before you.

“he wants to speak with you”

You were confused to say the least but just then you heard a voice.

“greetings child of hypnos.” It said. The voice sounded ancient,each word dripping with a sense of superiority and power that left you sweating in the freezing temperatures of the abyss

“child of hypnos? There must be a mistake…I haven’t been claimed.” You spoke up

You had to fight every bone in your body screaming at you to turn around and run, but the moment you looked back at Luke who had an encouraging look on his face, you knew you could do it if not for yourself then for him,so you stood strong.

“that is true…but only because there was simply no place for you at that wretched camp young one. Have you never noticed that your touch seemed to lull those to sleep? Did you not question why you were always so tired and saw such vivid yet realistic dreams? These are all the abilities your father has bestowed upon you,and had camp half blood prepared a place for not just the children of the main gods of olympus but the children of minor gods such as your father,then you may have been claimed fairly swiftly .”

You felt dizzy at this sudden revelation. You could have been claimed if camp half-blood had cabins for minor gods? What?

“i- okay maybe that makes sense yes,but who are you??” you asked,focusing on questions that could give you clarity and not the ones that would lead to more confusion.

“ah yes,I am Kronos.the titan lord and father of the olympians.”

“huh? The guy who ate his kids and they puked them all out?”

“yes.”

you went white at this sudden clarification. Taking a few steps back you bumped into Luke before saying “but…youre a bad guy…”

you looked up at your brunette(blonde) friend and reiterated your statement “luke he’s a bad guy..right?”

Luke sighed before answering your question

“y/n,those were all lies told to us by our parents the gods.the myths grossly misrepresented kronos.he means to set us free.to create a world where we can finally make a change. And if you join us-”

“whoa hold up,” you interrupted “join mister eats-his-kids? I think ill pass.”

you took a few more steps back but you seems to be frozen in place.

luke walked toward you and took your hands in is,he looked hurt that you’d refuse his offer,and when you looked closer you saw something you’d never seen in his eyes before.desperation

“y/n please.we need you, screw it, I need you. Don’t you think the gods need to pay? Don’t you think we deserve our happy ending too? Just think about it. You and me, against the gods. We’ll be unstoppable! And with my master’s power and his legion of monsters,Olympus won't stand a chance. We’ll finally be able to create a world where demigods can be free,where we don’t have to hide and be scared every single goddam second. Doesn’t that sound worth it?”

He had you hanging on every word and the longer he spoke, the more he was convincing you.

“but why me? I don’t have any flashy powers…how could I play such an integral part that you'd want me to join you his badly.?” You worded all your concerns in a single question and waited for his answer.

“because your control over dreams is far stronger than Chiron ever even dreamed.using your ability we can find more demigods to join our cause,more demigods who hold the same beliefs as us. And…” he trailed off before blinking away a tear, a crocodile tear of course,but you didn’t know that. “I want you here.”

“okay”

And just like that you were sold.

the moment your answer hit his ear,luke pulled you in for a hug,holding you tight,you of course hugged him back just as tightly.

He pulled away to look you in the face and then did the unthinkable

he kissed you.

the moment the kiss ended you felt breathless.you were floating.

He looked away,and you saw that even in the dim light of the sarcophagus,his blush was just visible.

He let out a soft “thank you” and then you both bowed before kronos and awoke on the floor of his office. From that day onward you slept in a cabin instead of the hold and were his right hand man(woman?). You worked tirelessly to aid him in his mission and as the days went by,you got stronger and more determined. You were still soft to him of course, he was almost like your Achilles heel and dam did he know it.

The only problem was that he seemed to be developing actual feelings for you too.but that was a problem for another time.

#🌾saffron writes #i love dramatic naming #percy jackson #pjo #luke castellan #percy pjo #luke castellan x reader #luke x hypnos!reader #luke castellan x hypnos!reader #stockholm syndrome #i think #pjo x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan angst #luke castellan fluff #what genre even is this😭

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prinz-alexiares · 7 days

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"I haven't killed you yet, you should show gratitude."

A week later:

| +++ Stockholm syndrome

#dol #dol eden #eden dol #my art #stockholm syndrome

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tadpolesonalgae · 7 months

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Dark!Azriel x reader: Stockholm Syndrome[***]

A/N: This is for the Eat You Up girlies <3

Warnings: dubcon themes, dark!Azriel, CNC kink, bdsm undertones, leashes + collars, heavy Dom/Sub dynamics, sex toys, knife play, pussy-spanking, impact play, degradation, foot-humping, biting, slight choking, shadows, sadomasochism, somnophilia, nipple play…?, spitting, mention of non-con

Word Count: 9,960

Visual Prompt here!

You pad quietly along the corridor, searching.

Shadows flick at your ankles, around your bare calves, herding you gently toward the stairs. Teeth bite softly into your lower lip as you ascend the case, feet tiptoeing along the carpeted hallway as you’re guided to his office. The door is ajar, and you spot him at his desk, walking in silently.

Not silent enough, apparently.

Hazel eyes flick over his shoulder, pinning you to the floor, and you still, breath catching in your throat. He turns a little in his chair, darkness thrumming around him, wreathing the great, powerful wings at his back. His eyes catch on your bare thighs, gaze darkening as he drinks you in, frozen in his room.

Azriel’s lips quirk, and that’s all it takes to have your limbs unsticking.

You eagerly pad forward, walking up to him, hands moving to your hips then wrapping round the base of your spine. Your own hands land on his broad shoulders as you slide into his lap, legs parting either side of his thighs. You press into his warmth, nestling deeper into the firm strength of him, nosing at his throat.

Azriel’s large hand strokes your hair, soothingly possessive, tucking you away.

A hum sounds in your chest, almost a purr, and your hips wind gently over his own, rocking your centre against him. He can feel the softness of your sex through the seam of his leathers. “Been a long day, huh?” He asks, large hand spanning your throat as he eases you back—so he can look at you. Remind himself how obedient you are. How docile you’ve become.

You blink quietly up at him, satisfaction gleaming in his sharp, hazel eyes.

White canines flash as his lips lift into a grin, “want something, pet?” Your hips roll onto his needfully, fingers tightening in the fabric of his shirt. A low chuckle sounds deep in his chest, “want my cock, hm?” Your head dips, and he laughs again. “I’d’ve thought all the maidenly blushing would have been fucked out of you by now,” he drawls, the rich timbre of his voice stirring something hot and liquid in the pit of your belly.

Papers rustle behind you, but you’re too busy staring up at him to care.

“Get on the desk. Legs spread,” he orders, and you practically fizzle with excitement. Sliding out of his lap, and raising yourself up carefully, so your ass is perched near the edge. Thighs part shyly, and you’re thankful for the fabric covering your heat. No matter how many times he’s already seen you, from all sorts of obscene angles.

You squirm when he remains quiet, simply leaning back in his chair, eyes slowly raking over you, leisurely taking you in, as if you aren’t burning with need. His gaze fixates on a spot between your legs, the teal silk darkened and damp. Heat bubbles as his tongue flicks out, wetting his lips. Showing his growing appetite.

“Remove your top for me, pet,” he says softly, eyes so full of starving hunger it sends goosebumps raising across your skin, nipples peaking as your fingers catch the hem of the cotton. Pulling it up over your head, you shiver in the cool air of his office, toes curling at the intensity of his gaze.

Silence stretches as he watches with predatory intent, allowing your anxiety to build, anticipation thrumming beneath your skin.

“Do you remember when you used to protest to all this?” He asks softly, sharp hazel piercing into you, pinning you to his desk. “How you used to scream, and beg for me not to touch you?” A shiver thrills down your spine, and he marks it eagerly. “Answer me, pet.”

You dip your head. “I do.”

His mouth parts in a grin, canines peeking from below his upper lip. “Want to recreate that for me?”

Breath catches in your lungs, muscles stiffening as you stare at him, heat washing your cheeks. “What…?” His eyes seem to almost glow with anticipation, and he pushes up from his chair. The space between you is gobbled up in a single stride, then his hands are resting heavily around your hips, pressing close between your thighs. “Want to make it fun, don’t you?” He drawls, watching you intently.

You dip your head again, cheeks heating, but he lightly grips your jaw, raising your chin. “Go on,” he murmurs, eyes scanning your features hungrily. “Make the hunt good.”

Arousal licks between your legs, but then he steps back, and you watch him curiously.

Azriel merely steps aside, encouraging you to go. “Hide.”

Heat sparks in the pit of your belly, and you’re hopping off his desk, grabbing your top, receiving a firm smack on the ass as you leave. “I’ll know if you don’t try hard enough,” he calls after you, voice being carried on those shadows, speeding you along.

First, you stop at your bedroom, but no—too obvious. Next is the kitchen, but nowhere to hide. Next is the study, and you sneak in, checking to see if you could fit under the desk. No way. But there’s a set of keys laying half hidden beneath some papers, and you smile to yourself.

Silently, you slide the key into the one remaining lock on the back door—having watched the other six come off over the years. Until just one remains. You catch it as it clicks open, careful not to make a sound as you open the door.

And hurry out into the night.

————

Toes curl in excitement as you settle your legs either side of the broad trunk, feet dirty from scaling the large tree. But now you’re up here, hidden, and have a good view of a few of the windows leading into your house.

Watch as he checks the bedroom first—he definitely would have found you there. Then the washroom, a few rooms you can’t see, the kitchen… He disappears for a while, and you assume he’s checking the study. Excitement thrills down your spine as you watch him search for you. Is this how he felt all those years? Secretly observing your activities?

It’s exhilarating.

When he reappears in the bedroom, his shadows are darker, writhing around his wings. He’s begun to figure you’re not in the house—he must not’ve seen the lock yet. You smile to yourself, satisfied with your efforts.

His movements drop their leisurely pace, sharpening to something more brutal. Lethally efficient as he checks each room again, going through the lovely house.

When the ground shakes slightly, you can guess he’s found the opened lock—guessed you’ve escaped out into the world. Returned to where he plucked you from.

Azriel prowls out into the garden, hazel eyes flicking left and right, scanning for movement, and you hold your breath. His nostrils flare, and he moves forward, shadows hunting close to the ground. He reaches the base of the tree, and comes up short. Your scent disappears from the ground.

He’s still. Quiet.

Then he begins muttering to himself. Your name, over and over. A strange spell being woven as he chants it repeatedly under his breath. Hands tighten to fists at his side, shadows writhing, and you can feel his agitation from below.

You watch, curiously. You’ve not seen him like this in a long time.

So you grip a pinecone, and drop it over the edge.

Immediately he stops, going silent. Staring at the cone at his feet. His gaze snaps up, razor-sharp hazel slicing into you, and you freeze. Cold, glittering fury dances in his eyes.

Excitement heats your body, hands gripping the trunk as you swing your leg over the side. Then tip off the edge.

His eyes widen, instantly moving to catch you, shadows springing up to soften your fall, and you feel it as his strong arms wrap protectively beneath you. Pressing you to his body. His grip is tight—possessive, and you nestle closer. “What d’you think?” You mumble, pulling back to peer up at him.

“I thought you’d gone,” he mutters, tips of his fingers tightening on you, before loosening, allowing you to settle your feet on the ground. “You know you’re not allowed out here,” he reminds roughly, hand settling on your waist, spanning the width easily.

Your hands settle on his chest, feeling the beat of his heart against his rib cage. How fast and hard it’s pumping.

“You told me to make it good,” you murmur, “didn’t I do good?”

“I thought you’d gone,” he repeats with devastating softness. Maybe you shouldn’t have let it go on for that long. “I thought you’d gone,” he says sharply, squeezing your waist. “I’m here,” you say softly, pressing into him. “I haven’t gone any—”

“I thought you’d runaway,” he mutters, a little frenzied. “I thought you’d been pretending. That you’d succeeded in escaping from me.”

You brow furrows, “Azriel, I’m right here…”

He shakes his head. “You shouldn’t have come out here.”

You peer up at him, staring at his beautiful features. How could you ever run away from him?

Gently, you pry your hands beneath his own, linking your fingertips together. Step back a little. “Maybe I was trying to escape,” you taunt softly. “Maybe I’ve gotten bored of you, and want something else.” His face goes white with rage, and you spin on your feet, turning to run for the house.

You don’t even get a single step before his hand has brutally gripped the base of your neck, yanking you back to him. You whimper at the roughness, and he marks the sound eagerly. “Want to repeat that, pet?” He growls quietly, keeping you pinned to the spot.

Teeth prod into your lower lip, his gaze darkening.

“Maybe I was trying to run away,” you repeat, skin prickling beneath the intensity of his attention. Centuries of predatory training zeroing in, on you. “Are you trying to provoke me? Is that it?” He snarls. “Think that’s a good idea, pet?”

“I’m not your pet, Azriel.”

His eyes gleam with cold fury, anticipation burning icily. “No?”

You shake your head. “No.”

Canines flash beneath the moonlight, and then his shadows have encompassed you. The weightless sensation overtakes you, then your feet are again on firm ground. You flinch as something leathery wraps around your throat, tightening until it fits snugly. A collar.

Metal snaps, and you know he’s just clipped on the lead.

Azriel gives a firm tug, making you stumble forward, hissing at the pressure around your throat.

“I think someone’s gotten too comfortable with her position,” he growls lowly, jaw tense, shadows thick and writhing at your feet. “Needs some reminding who’s in charge of her, huh?” A shiver trills down your spine, and you press your bare thighs together. Needing the friction. “Isn’t that right?”

The tears arise on their own, barely even needing to be summoned.

His grip tightens on the leash, eyes flickering with arousal at the sight of your damp lashes. “If you don’t want your role of pet, then by all means, spit on it,” he drawls softly. Menacingly. “Entitled brat, aren’t you?”

He lands a harsh slap to your cheek, tugging roughly on the lead again to keep you steady. “If you won’t comply as a pet,” he snarls softly, “then you’ll obey as a slave.”

A whimper slips from your lips at that, heat turning liquid in you belly. His brow quirks, lips tilting up at their edges, “like that?” Breath trembles from your lips, legs turning weak with arousal.

“Azriel…” you whisper desperately. The heat is too much. You need him to relieve it.

“So desperate,” he laughs softly. “I haven’t even begun on you.”

Then he’s roughly guiding you back, shoving you against a wooden wall, shackling your wrists in chains, shadows copying the movement on your ankles. The leash hangs limp as he steps away, brushing over your breasts, grazing your thighs, and you bow from the board.

Azriel tuts lowly, retreating into the dark dungeon-like basement, allowing his shadows to play with you in the meantime. They skate up your thighs, wrapping over your hips, slithering up your spine. Gliding beneath your shirt. Pinching your nipples.

A breathless whimper slips from your lips as they twist and flick, pressing against the teal silk between your legs. Winding with enough pressure to feel good, but not enough to give any meaningful stimulation. Head tips back against the wall, eyes fluttering closed as they teasingly circle your clit, more grazing your stomach, keeping you confused from where they’ll next come from.

Your lips part, hips trying to grind down upon them, but they move with you, refusing to come any closer. You nearly cry out in desperation.

You flinch when scarred fingers roughly push aside your soaked underwear, running something rubbery but firm through the wetness. Coating it. You attempt to peer down, but can’t get a good glimpse. Can hardly think straight with how desperately you need him.

Breath is shoved from your lungs as he pushes the object inside of you. Dreadfully slowly. In and out. A few inches at a time. When it’s fully in, he moves your underwear back into place, roughly tugging the strings further up your hips, shoving the toy deeper.

A moan bursts from your lips, spine arching from the circular board as you tighten around it, trying to keep it pressing against that wonderful spot.

“I was saving this for a reward,” he murmurs beside your ear, fingers between your legs, prone to push it further inside. “But I suppose it can double as a punishment, huh?”

Pleasure weighs on your eyelids, barely able to keep them open long enough to look at him. “Can you even remember my name, slave?” He asks, amusement clear in his question. You blink wearily up at him, begging for stimulation. All you get is a rough pat on the cheek, followed by his fingers pressing the toy up into you.

A strangled moan arises from your throat, teeth sinking into your lower lip as you try to silence yourself. He jerks roughly on your leash in reprimand. “None of that,” he tuts, gripping you jaw so you’re forced to look at him. “I want to enjoy this.”

Then he retreats again, and you sink into the wooden board, weight resting heavily on your arms that are still pulled taut either side of your head.

“Eyes up here,” he commands, a sultry roughness to his order. Heat buzzes between your thighs, but you force yourself to meet his gaze. And you nearly forget how to breathe.

Cold, hard steel catches the dim light. No more than an elegant slice of silver amongst his shadows. Azriel’s lips twist into a smile, deftly spinning the short blade in his hands, skilled with practice, flexible with familiarity. There are more at his side, piled on a table, all the size of small daggers.

“Azriel,” you breathe. “What—”

The blade flies from his hand, embedding in the wood to the right of your body. Too close for comfort. Especially because you know he could hit you if he really wanted, and you don’t know how close he’s willing to get to satisfy his desires. You cringe away from the Illyrian steel, but the chains hold you fast, keeping you pinned to the wall like an insect to a dissection table. Ready for him to play with; experiment on.

“Better keep still,” he mocks, picking up another dagger. “Unless you want a few scars to show for later?” His lips twist into a wider smile, “a reminder of your disobedience, perhaps?” The blade flies, lodging in the wood a few centimetres above your head. You yelp, dipping your head as your blood runs cold.

Another dagger has already left his hands before you can look up, slamming into the wood beside your right breast. A puff of cold air hisses at the skin, practically able to feel the blade if you tip your body a little to the right. It’s piercing the cloth of your top, just another restriction to your movement.

Azriel laughs, flipping a blade in his hand, marking your aroused discomfort. How you squirm.

“Do you regret sneaking out yet? In the night, where anything could have happened to you?” He asks, shoulders tensing at the reminder. “Do you understand how weak you are, huh? How delicate?” He throws another blade, this one nicking your cheek, as if to demonstrate how easily you can be hurt. A whimper is strung from your lips, the light stinging making you want to pull your thighs together.

“Mm sorry,” you breathe, lower lip wobbling. “Mm sorry, Azriel…”

He laughs at that, “better.”

Picks up another dagger. “But too late.”

Steel slices against your hip, slicing the teal string on your underwear, exposing your skin as blood beads delicately. Azriel licks his lips at the sight, a quick flick of his tongue that has you fantasising about everything else he could be doing to you. “Azriel please,” you whimper, vision blurring. “I didn’t mean to upset you… Wanted to make it fun.”

A rough chuckle sounds, the metallic scape of yet another blade sliding into his hand, “I’m having plenty of fun.” Steel flashes in the dim light, making you squint. “Are you not enjoying this?” Teeth push into your lower lip, blinking away the dampness, “want you, instead.” Azriel’s lips quirk, taking in the way your hips shift, tightening around the toy needfully. He targets the other string flawlessly, rewarding you with a matching nick to your hip.

“Yeah? You want me to be inside of you rather than that?” He asks, pleased with your answer. Though not satisfied enough to give you what you want. “Want me to unchain you so I can stuff you with my cock instead? Fuck you ’til you’re going limp in my arms? Is that what you’d like?”

“Yes!” You pant, tightening around the toy desperately. You’re so wet it’s slipping out, no longer kept tucked inside by your underwear.

“Azriel…! Azriel, I can’t— Az!”

Wood splinters as he targets just between your thighs, a breath below your skin. The toy perches atop the flat of the blade—having been thrown sideways. Your chest rises up and down, sweat making your skin gleam in the dim light. Things tremble, weak from the wild ride, adrenaline singing in your blood.

Light catches on his canines as he grins, slightly feral, slowly prowling toward you. “So obedient, aren’t you?” He drawls, towering over you as he rests his hands atop the circular board. Your spine bows from the wood, arching in attempts to get the toy to touch more of those sensitive spots. His grin widens, “want it a little deeper?” He asks mockingly, eyes gleaming with dark pleasure. You nod your head, cheeks hot like the rest of your body.

Teeth flash in the light, and he applies pressure to the board.

You scream as you’re spun upside down, so your head is in line with his boots, feet in the air. Dizziness crashes into you, tipping your sense of balance, warping your sense of direction as he laughs distantly. Fingertips brush down your inner thigh, dancing over the skin, breath grazing teasingly.

“So desperate,” he drawls. “Can you beg for it, hm? Think you can string the words together for me?” You blink hazily as he crouches down, peering at your confused form.

“Azriel…” you manage, then squeeze your eyes shut at the pressure. So hot. Blood rushing downward. “Azriel, please…”

“Please what?” He asks leisurely. “What do you want me to do, pet?” His thumb brushes over your lower lip, pulling it from your teeth, small scars from where you’ve bitten over the years indented into the pillowy flesh. He grins, leaning forward.

A deluded moan drags from your throat as he presses his canines into your upper lip, tugging on it slightly. Your hands pull on the chains, desperate to touch him as he plays with you, toy beginning to sink back in, but it’s neither fast, nor deep enough.

“Put it in me,” you beg, features scrunching with desperation, eyes squeezing shut against the pressure, brows furrowing. “Azriel, please…put it deeper.” Canines pierce your lip, something thick and rich bleeding onto your teeth, then he’s lapping it up. Landing a rewarding smack to your cheek before he stands. “That’s better,” he chuckles, finger brushing between your thighs, making to push them apart. “That’s much better.”

Breath drains from your lungs as he pushes the toy all the way in, gravity helping it sink deep into your heat. Hot liquid spills, dripping from your eyes up over your brows, trickling into your hair. Knees shake, hips bucking as he keeps the toy pressed inside of you, enjoying the view. “You having fun? Enjoying this?”

He pushes against the toy, making so it presses more into one side, circling the pressure, making you weep. “Yes,” you moan, “yes, yes, yes.”

Azriel halts his movements.

Before you know it he’s landed a smack to your clit.

You squeak, jerking against the shackles, to no avail. “Why the fuck are you enjoying it, huh?” He spits, landing another smack to your tender sex. “Did you forget this is supposed to be a punishment? You’re not meant to enjoy it.” Another smack, and tears slide up over your face, saliva wetting the corners of your mouth as you weep.

“No, we can’t have that, can we?” He mutters, grinning to himself as he smacks harder, making you scream, muscles flinching as you writhe against the chains. “How will you learn your lesson if it doesn’t hurt, huh?”

“Please, please, please! I’ve learnt it! I know better!” You cry out, hands balling into fists against the stimulation.

Relief sweeps in as he hold off for a moment, “is that right? Think you’ve learned? Think you know better now?” He presses the toy back in, having been slightly pushed out when you were tensing for impact. You nod your head frantically, “I swear! I’ll never do it again— Please, Azriel!”

He hums to himself, sounding satisfied. Leaning down, his mouth latches over your cunt, tongue flicking over your clit soothingly. Tasting your arousal. Azriel groans at the flavour, sealing his lips over your tender sex, suckling gently, wet muscle teasing the taut bud eagerly. Scarred hands grip behind your thighs, holding you still as you try to buck for more.

You’re murmuring prayers under your breath, chanting them desperately as he plays with you, a cat toying with its mouse—batting it back and forth between its paws. He changes the angle of the toy, and your mouth drops open, silent moans being drawn out, one after the other as pleasure builds and coils in the pit of your stomach.

But then he’s pulling away, leaving you hot and messy, slick coating the skin of your thighs, sex soft and tender from his brutal attention. Heart pounds in your chest as he unlocks your ankles, shadows keeping you pinned to the board as he does the same for your wrists. “Think we’re done, pet?” He murmurs, allowing your body to carefully fold over itself, so you tip over, shadows making sure you don’t hurt yourself as you land on the floor.

Your head is spinning from the movement, cunt aching for more attention, and your legs automatically spread as you attempt to push the toy back inside. Grinding against the floor, but it’s too low, too far away, and your thighs won’t spread wide enough. Whimpers spill from your lips in frustration, wanting that pleasure, riled up from the phantom lick of his tongue over your clit. How good it felt.

Azriel growls roughly, shadows collecting your leash, returning it to his hand as he tugs roughly, drawing your attention back to him, instead of the toy you’re pitifully trying to steal your pleasure from. “Come here,” he orders sharply, again tugging on your collar, causing you to choke.

Clumsily, you crawl forward, stopping to kneel before him.

“Feeling good, slave?” He asks, keeping your leash taut so you’re forced to tilt your chin upward, peering at his towering frame. You dip your head mindlessly, too dizzy and yearning for pleasure to properly think. He chuckles, “yeah? You liked that?” Again you nod, lips parting as your hand slips between your legs to press the toy back inside. Fingers come away wet, slick dripping down and onto the floor.

“But you still need more, don’t you?” He purrs, hazel eyes gleaming in the dim light, “so greedy. Greedy and gluttonous. Such a brat.” Whimpers drag from your lips, nodding your head dumbly along with everything he’s saying. He chuckles at you.

“Want to feel good now?” He asks, shadows cupping your jaw to keep your attention on him. When you don’t answer, he smacks you, cheek stinging with the impact. “Answer. Or do you want me to chain you back up and give that little cunt some rougher treatment?” Your eyes nearly roll to the back of your skull, but you shake your head in apology. “Mm sorry…please don’t…want to feel good, please…”

His lips quirk—he has you wrapped around his finger. Your pleasure dependant on him. You need him. Without him, you can never feel good.

Azriel takes pity on you, large hand landing atop your head, threading through your hair. “You’re going to be good? Gonna be good for me now?” He asks, grinning when you nod eagerly. Eyes gleam maliciously, and he tugs on your collar, pulling you flush against his leg, arms clinging onto him for stability.

“Go on then,” he urges, shifting one foot to be between your thighs, knocking your knees further apart. “Take your pleasure.”

Relief crashes into you, and you move to pull away, wanting to lie on your back—give him a nice view; a performance as you bring yourself over the edge. Only with his permission, of course.

You whimper when he tugs on your collar, making you peer up at him desperately, questioningly. Lips tip into a smirk as he taps his boot against the floor expectantly. “Go on,” he repeats softly, mockingly. “Take it.”

Teeth sink into your lower lip, hands gripping onto him desperately as your thighs spread, the toy settling against the leather. You lean your weight onto it. Eyes roll back, heat flushing your skin, taking inch after inch. His grip tightens in your hair, hand curling into a fist as he keeps your head tilted upward—so he can watch your blissed out expression as your features contort. All because of him.

Male satisfaction licks up his spine, cock stiffening in his trousers, rubbing against the seam.

You’ve already been worked to the brink, coil so close to snapping, it’ll take minimal effort to bring you that ocean of pleasure. Slowly, you wind your hips over him, unable to do much more with the depth of the stimulation, how deep the goodness is sinking. You wish it was his cock, wish his hands were roughly gripping your hips, arms bound behind your back so you’re completely at his mercy.

Speed up the motions, hips bucking as you grip onto him desperately, his hand fisted in your hair. Azriel watches as you tug your lip between your teeth, brows curving upward, drool shining at the edges of your mouth. Cheeks and lashes damp with tears. Skin hot to the touch. Lips part in pleasure, tongue flicking out briefly. “That’s it,” he goads, shadows gripping your hips to urge you on. “That’s it, take it. Take it from me. Be a good girl and take your pleasure.”

Eyes roll back, lids fluttering as you press your chest flush against him, gripping onto the muscle of his thigh as your hips drag back and forth in sharp, sporadic jerks. “Go on, a little more— That’s it. So good. So good, aren’t you? So well behaved.” The praise sings down your spine, and pleasure bursts across your skin, fracturing your conscious. Hips buck wildly, almost automatically, riding out the euphoria, his fist tightening in your hair. Keeping you still so he can watch as you cum.

His name chants on your lips over and over, eyes filling with tears at the pleasure as you press tighter to him, clinging onto him like he’s some kind of prophet. Some kind of saviour. You bow into his touch, desperate for more, to have more of his skin against your own.

“Azriel…” you moan.

It’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. Never failing to make him dizzy with lust, enraptured with the movements of your body, how you’re kneeling and riding him so desperately. Like you really do need him. His temperature rises.

The aftershocks fade, leaving you panting quietly, relaxing your body, shifting off his boot. Thin strands of silvery slick connect the leather to your cunt, creating a sloppy mess. Azriel tuts softly, arousal zapping straight to your clit at the sound alone. “What a mess you’ve made,” he drawls, hand having released your hair. “Gotten my boot all dirty, haven’t you? What a filthy thing you are.”

Colour tints his skin, clearly pleased with the results—how wet you are.

“Think I should make you clean it up, huh?” He jerks on your leash, shadows tightening the pressure of your collar ever so deliciously. “Make you lick it up with that filthy mouth of yours?” He drawls, enjoying the idea. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, and he chuckles. “No…I think you’d like that too much. Pretty whore.”

A lovely whimper is drawn from your chest as he releases your collar in favour of tossing you over his shoulder, shadows keeping the toy tucked comfortably inside of you. You whine and writhe against him, wanting to feel more of him, have more of him. He lands a harsh spank to your backside, making you yelp, then wiggle more.

Azriel laughs lowly at your antics, rewarding your struggle with a harder smack, leaving the skin stinging in his wake. He carries you all the way through your shared home, taking you up each flight of stairs, leading you up from the basement and into your bedroom. Gently lowers you down his body as he sits, toy still tucked away deep inside. Legs spread over his lap, his arm winding around your waist to keep your chest flush against him.

Fingers thread through your hair, jerking your head back so he can stare you down, those hazel eyes enough to have arousal gathering all over again as you anticipate the awful things he’s going to do to you. “You regret going outside, don’t you, pet. Not going to do it again.” You nod your head along with him, showing you’re sorry. His mouth slides wide in a vulpine smile, “but what about those other things you said, huh? Think I’m just going to let those go?”

You whimper, rolling your hips against him, pleading for him to get inside of you. Fill you up.

He laughs darkly at your attempts to distract him, bucking up against you—let you think he’s forgiven you. But his hold remains tight in your hair, and he watches you swallow against the collar, shadows unclipping the leash. “You said something cruel to me earlier. Do you remember what it was?” He asks, smiling as you struggle and squirm in his lap. Shake your head in response.

Azriel hums, hand moving to grip your throat lightly, holding you gently between his fingers. “You said you wanted to look for something else. That you’d gotten bored, and you wanted something better.” The grip tightens, not enough to make you choke, but enough for you to feel the pressure. You squirm more, shaking your head in denial. “I didn’t mean it…” you beg, hands desperate to touch him, to hold him.

He tilts his head in mock concern, “no? You were lying?”

Teeth bite into your lip, dipping your head in confirmation.

Lips quirk. “That right? You’re a dirty little liar?”

Vision blurs, but you nod, grinding down on him in attempts to make reparations.

He chuckles lowly, deep in his throat. “You made me very upset with that comment. Made me think you wanted someone else. That I wasn’t good enough for you.” He grips harder, breath rasping out, pulling your mouth to brush against his own. “Am I good enough for you, pet?”

“Yes,” you whisper, trying to nod your head. “You’re so good. So good to me, Azriel. So perfect.”

One of his brows quirks. “Perfect? I don’t know about that, pet.”

“You are,” you insist, hardly more than a whine. “Best thing in the world. You’re perfect. Everything.” Lips part in a grin that’s filled with male satisfaction. He releases your throat, in favour of going to his belt. “Want to show me how perfect I am, pet?”

Heat washes down your spine, and you’re nodding frantically, quickly shuffling down his body as he pulls himself free of his leathers. You stare up from between his legs, knelt on the ground, the toy still tucked away, balancing on the wooden boards. Mouth waters as he touches himself, beautiful skin tinted with colour, flushed with arousal.

You don’t notice his shadows slinking away, trailing back down to the basement.

A hand slides through your hair, and it’s all the encouragement you need to be rising up—feet keeping the toy nice and deep—following his silent instruction. You open your mouth over him, and he groans from the back of his throat. You could cry at the taste of him, how right it feels to have him on your tongue, pushing your jaw lower. How lovely his skin is, so soft, and hot. Slightly salty, and tasing so distinctly of himself.

Fingers slip between your legs, rolling over your clit, tightening around the toy.

“That’s a good girl,” he drawls, pushing you down onto his cock, hips bucking upward. “So good. So good at making me feel good. What you were made for. Isn’t that right, pet?” You moan onto him, grinding down, fingers flicking and rolling over the sensitive bud.

Free hand grips his base, pumping what you can’t fit, tongue flicking over the slit in his head. Landing soft kisses to it, and the space just below, suckling lightly, before taking him entirely again. As entirely as you can, anyway.

Enjoying the process, saliva dripping from your mouth, lubricating the slide up and down. How he sometimes cuts off your airways if you take him too far down. How he twitches in response to the slight gags. Loving every second of it.

“Choose a number between one and five,” he orders lowly.

Brow narrows as you make to pull up, but his hand is already resting at the back of your head in warning. You still as his tip, tongue circling again, then you dip as far down as you can go. One…two…three times.

Azriel hums, then a faint clicking noise sounds through the room.

You writhe, muscles spasming, trying to tug away from him as the vibrations hit your sensitive walls. His hand keeps you in place, shadows returning from their adventure down to the basement. Eyes squeeze shut at the pleasure, the stimulation, and the darkness wraps around the base of the toy, slowly beginning to drag it in and out.

Tears build at your lashes, and you take him back down your throat eagerly, spine arching so it touches all kinds of spots. Azriel laughs softly as he watches you, how easily you bend to his will, curving and arching to fit to the shape of his pleasure. Stroking himself through the skin of your cheek, thumb skimming gently.

Another click sounds, and the vibrations change to a steady pulse rhythm, conditioning you to tighten moments after the sensation. His shadows pick up speed, pushing in faster, and harder. Free hand leaves from between your legs to grip onto him, having to steady yourself from the stimulation.

You moan again and again onto his cock, wanting him to feel as good as you are, lapping at the salty moisture that gathers at his tip. Darkness replaces your fingers, playing with your clit, running in tight, repetitive circles, making the pressure in the pit of your belly double…coil over itself again and again.

“That’s good,” he encourages, breathlessly, getting off on seeing how desperate you are. How your hips push back against his shadows, how you moan onto him, dripping onto the floor. “Keep going, pet. Making me feel so good. Show me how much you love me. Worship everything you can get that lying fucking mouth of yours on,” he snarls roughly.

Heat builds at the degradation, coil tightening as you take him as far as you can, nails biting into his leathers as you push your limits. His shadows work in tandem to your efforts, licking over your clit, flicking and swirling over your nipples, tugging on them lightly. Pinching, like he’s attached clips to them. He knows how sensitive you are…all those secret spots he’d discovered.

Azriel curses under his breath, low and vicious. “Do you remember how hard you tried to escape me that first time, pet? How you cried, and screamed? Screamed until that lovely throat of yours was raw?” He drawls, bucking his hips in time with the thrusts of the toy, vibrations making you see stars.

All you can manage is a heady moan, tears dripping down from pleasure, nearly numb with euphoria.

“And look at you now,” he laughs breathlessly, “all good and broken in. Told you I’d have you trained. But you didn’t believe me, did you? Thought you’d make it, huh?” Arousal sparks in the pit of your belly, and you widen the stance of your legs, spreading your thighs to allow it to hit deeper. And it does. It does so well.

Eyes roll back into your skull, hands trembling with the force of your orgasm. He twitches in your mouth at the pure pleasure in your scent, how overpowering it is. Strong enough to tip him into his own high.

Liquid pleasure spills into your mouth, and you nearly go mad. His taste coats your tongue, spurting hot between your lips, spilling down your throat as you lick and lap and suck: worshipping as he’d told you to.

Shadows tighten around your clit, pinching your nipples, tugging on them as he targets every part that you love, succinctly and with mind-breaking accuracy. Practiced precision.

Pleasure overwhelms you, feeling so wonderful as the vibrations crash into you over and over, made stronger as your sensitive walls flutter around the toy, clamping down, forcing it tighter.

The last thing you remember is how he’d pulled you from his cock, spit and cum mixing together to create silvery, milky threads, making your lips glisten. The way those last few spurts had decorated your cheeks, nose and mouth, marking you as his own.

And then your world dimmed, winking out.

————

He continues working on you long after you pass out, grinding his hips sloppily against your own. When you’re passed out, and unaware, you’re inanimate. A pretty accessory for his cock.

Cum gleams over your abdomen, cunt glistening from hours of use, release mixed with your slick. Even while you’re asleep, your body continues to please him, urging him to continue, to pursue that sick pleasure.

Azriel doesn’t mind how unresponsive you are; he gets to paint you as he pleases.

His fingers graze softly over your abdomen, muscle fluttering beneath the teasing brush, tensing as they glide through cum. He groans, cock stiffening expectantly as he scoops release up from your cunt, gathering loadfuls before raising them to your lips. He twitches as the milky liquid splatters over your mouth, trickling over your tongue, making you wake suddenly. Spluttering as he touches the back of your throat.

The scent of his arousal spears into your mind, and your body heats in response, so ready for him to work on you. So ready to submit. Tongue plays with his taste, peering down at yourself as sensations crest over you.

Azriel sits back patiently, allowing you time to catalogue the bruises; the devastation.

Bite-marks litter your thighs, the indentation of his teeth stamped so deep you hope it scars. Bruises hurt on your throat and collar bones, on the space beneath your jaw, and you raise your fingers to brush the intimate skin. Your breasts ache, and you know he’s been having fun with them: pinching, flicking, biting. Suckling the sensitive peaks while he no doubt stuffed you full, cock buried deep inside your tender sex.

Whimpers draw from your lips as you take in the results of his desire—how he’s inflicted his hunger upon your body. How he’ll continue to abuse every spot he likes until… There is no end.

Tongue flicks over your lips, and you settle onto your hands and knees, crawling to him. He may have removed the leash, but he’s still dragging you forward, invisibly connected to him.

“Azriel…” his name rasps from your lips, throat raw from use, need scraping against your skin. Hazel eyes gleam as he watches you crawl forward on shaky limbs—how you drag your tongue up the underside of his cock, set on worshipping him with as much devotion as he does with you. A quiet groan falls from his mouth as you rise up his body, breasts dragging over his chest. He doesn’t miss the flicker of pain across your features as they scrunch, how reactive you are, so sensitive to touch now you’ve been given chance to recover.

Mouth opens over his own, sharing the erotic taste of him across his tongue, revelling in how it strokes against yours. His hands lightly grip your waist, fitting perfectly over the already formed bruises, sliding into place. Tenderly, his tongue flicks out over your lower lip, lapping up his cum from your skin, gathering it in his mouth as his hand slides lower, fingers dragging over your entrance to collect your wetness.

Pleasure lights your body as he laps at his own fingers, indulging in your flavour.

His large hand grips your jaw gently, tipping you upward so you’re facing him. Taps the skin of your cheek twice with the pad of his forefinger. Open.

Hot liquid bubbles in your abdomen as he spits between your parted lips, digits sliding in soon after to press his taste into your tongue; mark every part of you with his scent, until you’re covered in him. You whimper around his fingers, hand wrapping around his cock as you move to pleasure him.

Azriel snarls softly over your mouth, and you retract your touch—even as he pulls you flush against his torso, cock pressing into your tummy so tantalisingly. Teasingly. You whine.

“Azriel…” you breathe, words muffled from his fingers, and pride flickers in his gaze. “What is it?” He asks softly, lips lifting at the edges. You could sigh with relief at that expression; you know what it means. It means lazy, leisurely. It means taking his time—gently, subtle bucks of his hips to stimulate you slowly. Warm you up again.

“I want you,” you plead, hands pressing to his chest. He allows you to guide him back, wings flaring as they press into the mattress. “You’ve had me all night,” he smirks, pleased you’re craving him as intensely as he is you. Mutual obsession. Tangible need.

“It’s not enough,” you mumble, hands skimming the tops of his thighs, eyes torn between laying on his own, and lapping up more of his cock. “I need to have you inside me.” Cock twitches, and you tighten in response, thighs parting over his hips, settling so you’re atop him. “You’ve had me inside you plenty of times tonight,” he reminds softly, eyes glazing with lust, darkening as his hand brushes your abdomen. Knowing how much cum he’s pumped int you.

Lower lip pushes out, brows curving together, “you know that doesn’t count.” Fingers press into the padded muscle of his stomach, slicked with sweat, and you want to trace each one with your tongue. “Want to have you inside, and to feel it,” you moan, guiding his tip to your entrance.

Azriel watches, entranced. Once again reminded at how obedient you’ve become.

“Open your mouth.”

You do so without question.

Lips fashion themselves into a smile. “Close.”

Your mouth closes.

“Good girl.”

Heat flutters between your legs.

Hands gently span your waist, urging you to sink your weight onto him, settle on his cock. You oblige happily.

Eyes roll back into your skull, and you hear him murmur soft words of reassurance under his breath as you sway. Temporarily rendered immobile. He steadies you, waiting for you to be ready for stimulation.

He’s had his fun, had his time to play with your body. Find his pleasure in it. He knows it’s your turn, and he’s happy to let you have it. You’ve worked hard for him, satisfied him repeatedly. Now he wants you to explore him all over again, swirl your hips until you find a pace you like, touch yourself as you want while he supports from the background.

You do just that.

Slowly, you lift off him, thighs trembling with the effort. Then you slide back down, feeling the push of his hip bone digging into the softness of your flesh. Thoughts block out of your mind, pushed away by his cock as it presses into your sensitive walls; quiet whimpers cry from your chest.

Legs shift out from under you as you yield control, unable to lever yourself up and down as you fully rest your weight on him. Leaning back against his legs, bent at the knee to support you, your eyes fluter closed, content to bask in the fullness of him.

His shadows stroke over your head, providing the comfort you seek. Warmth floods your chest at his caring nature.

“Azriel?” You mumble softly, words subdued under the weight of pleasure. He hums quietly in response, hands grazing the tops of your thighs as he watches you. “Tell me a story,” you request.

A chuckle rumbles out of him, and you feel it warm your insides, making you tighten around him. “What sort of story do you want, pretty thing?” You could melt at the nickname. Reduce yourself to liquid to splash all over him, saturate his skin.

Teeth bite into the pillowy silkiness of your lower lip, toes curling as you drag your hips forward by a few centimetres. “Tell me how you fell in love with me,” you request softly. Hands settle at your waist, heating your sides, thumbing the skin softly. “Tell me every thought you had… Every moment you watched me… Tell me all of it.”

“It’s a long and dreadful tale I’m afraid,” he laughs deeply, “I think it would sour the mood.”

“Then tell me one that won’t,” you breathe. “I want to know you more. Want to know everything.” His cock touches a lovely place inside of you, and you focus on softly targeting it, rolling your hips over him.

Azriel pauses, and even with your eyes closed you can feel the weight of his gaze, how assuring it is; how adoring. “Okay,” he sighs, giving in, stroking your thighs, “just one.”

Your lips tip at the edge, one set of fingers linking with his own as he squeezes back.

“It was pretty early on—before I really grasped how deep the obsession ran,” he begins, the rough timbre of his voice curling your toes. “I spotted you coming back from a night out. You were clearly drunk, and stumbling all over the place—I was surprised you made it to your door without falling flat on your face,” he says, fingers tracing patters across your skin.

“I remember knowing you hadn’t locked your door, and I was angry. Angry you didn’t take care of yourself. For being so reckless,” he continues, tapping lightly at your inner thigh—reprimanding you for all those decades ago. Nearly seventy years past since that infatuation took root. “I remember thinking I should use my shadows to give you a scare. Teach you a lesson for being so unaware. You desperately needed to learn to protect yourself, and you weren’t going to start unless something pushed you into action,” he laughs, realising how firmly in your thrall he’d been even back then. Before he was even fully aware of it.

“But when my shadows got inside, you were already undressing, and I couldn’t move.”

Eyes flutter open, and you meet his dark hazel gaze, something far deeper than love dancing in his features. Something bordering on violent, glittering with possession. Protection.

“I doubt you even noticed how dark it got in your room that night, despite the faelight,” he says softly, and your pulse spikes, knowing how closely he watched over you for all those years. How protective he is by nature. “I later learned whenever you came back like that, it often meant whoever you’d chosen for the night hadn’t be worth it, choosing to stumble back to your own bed rather than wake up in theirs.” Again those impatient taps to your thigh, and your hips roll in response, soothing both of you.

“It was the first night I saw you touch yourself. And it felt wrong to watch, but you were so fascinating. I’d never seen someone enjoy themselves purely for their own satisfaction. With partners, or workers in brothels, they’re aware they’re expected to put on a show. They emphasise movements to an obscene, unbelievable degree, while you were calm and quiet.” You swirl over him, vaguely managing to call up a murky image of your bedroom. Picturing the darkness that filled it, and you hadn’t even noticed.

Maybe you’d known, innately, he was not there to harm you, but to love you.

“It was entirely solitary; a completely private moment I was witnessing, and it was an unimaginable weight off my shoulders,” he says, circling the tops of your thighs, heat building and coiling in the pit of your belly. “For those few hours, I was no one. Gloriously free to simply observe,” his lips quirk ruefully. “Until it wasn’t enough to just watch.”

Breathing shallows, chest rising up and down with anticipation. Wanting to know where he took the irreversible step from the light. Straying from his own path, to collide with yours.

“You came back again, drunk and stumbling over yourself, and I knew enough by this point to know you wouldn’t remember a thing,” he says, voice growing softer with each confession. “So that night, when you were on the cusp of sleep, I helped push you over the edge.”

“You didn’t even struggle,” he murmurs, breathless. “Didn’t even try to put up a fight. Just waited patiently as I pushed your legs apart; pulled the silk from your hips. So lovely and docile. So perfect.” Colour flushes his skin and he can’t help the slight buck as he presses himself deeper into your cunt.

“Go on,” you urge, panting quietly. “Tell me more.”

A phantom smile plays on his mouth as he remembers, “there were moments I think you may have fallen asleep, then woken up when your body remembered what was happening. Like you were desperately fighting it off for me, trying to be there for me.” He huffs a laugh, squeezing your hand.

“I remember how you arched at the first stroke of my tongue, how your fingers tightened in the sheets, like you wanted to touch me but didn’t have the energy to manage. So I held you with one hand, just like this. To make sure you didn’t suddenly jolt awake; that you felt comfortable. So your body wouldn’t warn you about the violation.”

“You were nearly perfect, except you didn’t know how to attribute the pleasure, so you didn’t call out my name when you came on my tongue. I watched you writhe, how your eyes widened then slammed shut, squeezing together as you gripped my hand though it all. Like you were worried you’d be washed away in the torrent. You were absolutely breathtaking in that moment; every moment after.”

“That night you became mine. You never knew—I suppose until now—but you responded to me that night. You felt it. I know you did. Your body reacted to me, and you squeezed me back. Despite the scarring, and the burns. You held on like you needed me,” he breathes, panting deeply as his stomach muscles flex in the dim light, sweat glistening across his skin.

“You claimed me too, that night. And I couldn’t resist going back.”

“I think you grew to expect me. You would return from a night out reeking of alcohol, get inside your home, pass out on your bed, and within a few minutes, you would be soaked. Dripping onto your sheets, waiting for me. Spread out and perfect. You wanted me as much as I wanted you, yet you didn’t even know who I was.” His hand squeezes yours, and you know you won’t hold on much longer.

“I tried to stay away. For months I would be off in another court, and you consumed me. At night I would lie awake, thinking about you, wondering if you were lying in your own bed, cunt dripping for me, waiting for me to soothe the ache. Sometimes I would be gone for so long your body forgot how to behave when I returned.” His words grow rougher, more agitated.

“So I made sure you remembered.”

“That first week when I returned from a mission, I wouldn’t sleep. I spent my time watching you, shadows happy to play with you again—they’ve always liked you more than anyone else. But you know that now, don’t you.”

As if listening in—which they very well might have been—the darkness writhes at your back, cresting over your shoulders and cupping your breasts delicately, swiping over your lips as you tip back into them.

“Sometimes it was nearly impossible to pull them off you. They would constrict around your thighs, tighten around your hips so you were secure beneath them. I quickly lost count of how many times they would want a turn with you, so I would let them,” he breathes, and you can feel that coil on the verge of snapping, heat sizzling beneath your skin as you squeeze him desperately. “You responded so beautifully to their kind of stimulation. And I would watch all of it.”

“Admittedly, I was a little careless. But you never noticed, so I suppose it doesn’t matter if I was a little sloppy here and there. If I got you a little messy, too.”

“It was rare I would be gone for longer than three or four months at a time, but when those longer missions called, I would rush back to you the moment I could.” A twinge of pain has entered his voice, thinking back on how long he had to keep his love for you a secret. How you were carefully shielded from it. For years. Decades.

“And sometimes I didn’t want you to wake clean of any marks of my own. If you weren’t even going to remember, then I might as well leave some trace,” he laughs sharply, arousal dumbing your mind as his words begin to mellow out. “But those never bothered you either. Not the bite marks, or the bruises, or the ache when you thought you hadn’t taken anyone to bed that night. Not even when you woke to find cum between your legs. Or a faint taste in your mouth.”

He sighs, bucking his hips softly, and you exhale heavily.

“Did you ever fuck me?” You breathe, tightening around him at the thought. “While I was asleep, I mean. Did you ever take me before I knew you?”

Azriel shakes his head, smiling now. “No, lovely girl. I wanted to save that for you. I wanted to be with you, and for you to be fully aware when I first went inside of you. And it was torture waiting. It was cruel to make me wait all those years. All that time, and yet you never picked up on that other scent that would consistently turn up on you. Maybe you grew accustomed to it.”

Teeth push into your lower lip, and you tuck your legs back under you, once again able to move.

“The first time I had you…I’ll never forget it,” he groans, hand releasing yours in favour of gripping your hips. “You screamed so sweetly. Begged me to stop, like you hadn’t been asking for it for decades. How you were able to scream at me to stop when your legs would practically fall open for me…” he laughs, and you buck over him, quickening the pace of your swirls.

“You took me as well as I knew you would,” he groans, hands helping you rise and fall on his cock. “Took everything perfectly. Even my blade.”

Your eyes roll back, and you allow him to take control, gripping your hips tight to pound in to you. “It was just supposed to warm you up. To stretch you out so we could both enjoy it when I entered you… But then you reacted so well to it, and you had to have an orgasm before you took me. And you looked so fucking edible.” He grits out the words, and your hips stutter, jerking as pleasure brims at your lashes.

“Azriel…” you pant, tears spilling as he hits those beautiful spots, making you bounce on him. “You looked so fucking good I couldn’t believe it. And you felt even better.”

You clamp down on him, taking each buck of his cock as he drives up into you, mind going blank except for his name playing on repeat in your head. Filled with only him entirely. Nothing else would fit inside you anymore. It has to be him.

Hot cum spurts inside, and you can only imagine the mess he’s made in your heat.

How full he’s pumped you; how deep his release is.

How deep he’s burrowed his way inside of you.

Hips slow to a relaxed pace, grinding down onto him, keeping him tucked away inside of you. Refusing to release a single drop as you continue fluttering around him lightly.

Words are far out of reach, but he collects you as you sway forward, blinking away drowsiness as you settle on top of him, nestling into his chest. Nosing at his throat, licking up his flavour.

Azriel laughs quietly from deep in his chest, and it twines with his heartbeat. “You’re perfect…you know that?” Warmth fills your heart as his arms wrap around you, shadows pulling the blankets to cover you, despite being the wrong way up in the bed. What does it matter when he’s around?

“I’m perfect if you’re perfect,” you mumble back, hardly succeeding in keeping your eyes opened.

He doesn’t respond, but you can feel his heart, can hear how it picks up speed, and you know he’s happy.

Hot lips brush your head, pressing kisses into your hair as he keeps it from your face. You burrow into him deeper, pulling the sheets closer as you roll off to his side.

Azriel squeezes you again, making sure you’re as close as can be.

Neither of you would want it any other way.

Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb

Az Taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch

#Azriel #Dark!Azriel #acotar #Azriel smut #Azriel x reader #Azriel x reader smut #dark fic #dark!Azriel smut #dark!azriel x reader smut #[***]#Stockholm Syndrome #October

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timidpumpkin · 1 year

Note

Can you do a stucky little reader? She wakes up sick ( flu symptoms) and they take care of her. Angst and fluff with cute nicknames. 🥺🥺❤️❤️

You had me at angst…and fluff…and cute nicknames…okay you had me at the whole thing🙈🙈💞💞heheh i hope you like it!! I set it in little light universe🫶🫶❤️💙❤️💙

(pictures are not my own)

More Than Anything (Stucky x reader)

Pairing: Dark!Stucky x f!reader

Warnings/tags: Dark!Stucky, Daddy!Stucky, Female reader, Implied forced age regression, Sick reader, Meanie bucky, Implied reader has small hands in comparison because Stucky is gigantic (fact), Angst, Fluff, Comfort. Reader baby-talks as well, Lots o' cute nicknames.

Word count: 4.2k

It hurts.

“Mornin’ Doll,” Bucky says after flipping your lights on. The illumination now burning your vision makes you pull the covers over your head as you flip over, hiding from the bright room. You hear him making his way to your bedside. The mattress beneath dips you sideways a bit as he sits beside your dormant form.

“Come on now, time to get up.” he pulls lightly at the duvet covering you. He can tell you’re gripping it with all you can. Though he could easily unveil you, he decides against it, knowing that ripping the blanket from your delicately curled-up fingers might hurt them. Instead, he leans his body over yours, one hand placed on the other side of your hip as he hovers above you. He dips his head close to where yours is concealed by the warm blanket. “Don’t make me carry you down there,” he whispers teasingly, figuring it’s likely what you’re hoping for.

Instead, you only groan in response, mumbling something about getting a little more sleep. It wasn’t an uncommon request from you, and Bucky knew how much babies needed their sleep. Usually, he would let it slide, loving how adorable you look in dreamland, but he can’t. Not this time.

It was almost noon. He peers around your room. It’s not the cleanest, but it looks pristine compared to the current state of your playroom. He had asked you yesterday to clean it, noticing the myriad of toys and their respective accessories scattered across the carpeted floor.

You, preoccupied with dressing your doll so she could ‘go on vacation,’ promised him you’d do it after dinner. Bucky apprehensively agreed, and even let you fall through on your assigned chore after you quickly fell asleep on the couch, much before your usual bedtime. Figuring you played your little heart out, he carried you upstairs and told himself to remind you in the morning.

Having already slept almost twelve hours, he knows if he lets your slumber last any longer, you’ll never sleep tonight. He sighs.

“I know you want more babygirl, but Dada already made breakfast and lunch. You need to come eat,” he waits a few moments for you to respond, but you don’t let out a sound or groan. “I'm serious, Doll, time to get up,” he states, standing up, hoping it’ll prompt you to follow. You peel your sheets back to look at him.

“Daddy…” you whine, unsure of what you're asking for. All you knew is that it hurt. Everything. It wasn’t just that the lights were too bright. It wasn't just that you were sleepy. Your whole body felt…bad. Just bad. You couldn’t exactly explain it, but you did know that moving didn’t seem like it would help.

Bucky only looks at you, unsatisfied. You try sitting up, which you find is more difficult than it should have been. Once you’re upright, you feel pressure in your head. Your cheeks and forehead feel as if there's unwanted gunk smooshed inside. It makes you want to lie back down immediately.

“m’ tired daddy,” you say groggily.

“That’s ‘cause you slept so much,” Bucky knew messing with your established sleep pattern too much would likely make you feel more cranky than it seemed you already were. So, as much as he knew you didn’t want to, he believed it would be for the best to make you get up.

As you start to get out of bed, it feels as though the air is made of thick jello with every movement you make.

“Daddyyy…ughhhh” you groan unhappily at him, and kick at your sheets frustrated that you’re being forced to move.

Bucky’s eyes narrow at your agitated action, never liking that kind of behavior from you.

“Don’t be that way, Doll. it’s too early for that,” he warns.

“Mmm,” you groan again. “noo, don’t wanna, wanna sleep!” you say crankily, flopping back down on the bed again with your arms crossed to prove your point. That point being: you. did. not. want. to. move.

Bucky rolls his eyes, and takes a deep breath, debating internally on how to approach your grouchiness. He decides, only since it’s so early—for you—that he’ll go easy on you, hoping this attitude will fade as you wake up.

“No more sleep, but,” he leans down closer to you, “if you promise to be a good girl all day, Daddy will carry you down there.” he offers as a compromise.

Truthfully, you’d still rather lay in bed, but you knew you had to do what Daddy asked. More so, you didn’t want him to be upset with you, so you nod your head in agreement.

“Okay, Daddy.”

“Okay daddy, what?” he questions.

“I-i’ll be good,” you say, having a hard time remembering what he asked. He slides his hands under you and begins to pick you up. Once you’re in his hold, you quickly let your head fall to his shoulder, wishing you could now sleep there instead.

“And you’ll eat your breakfast this morning?” he asks into your heavy head. You nod into his neck and mumble a ‘yes daddy’ assentingly.

Once he places you in your chair downstairs, Steve greets you with a bright smile, and a kiss to your forehead after setting down your food. When he does, he notices how hot your skin feels against his.

“You feel warm angel, you feel okay, babygirl?” he asks, gently checking the temperature of your cheeks with the back of his hand.

“Oh, she just got up, she’s probably still warm from sleep,” Bucky answers before you get the chance to speak. “Somebody really didn’t want to get up this morning,” he pokes.

“Ohh,” Steve coos, “you still sleepy, babygirl?” he asks. You shake your head weakly, eyes drifting closed. You think about telling him how bad you feel, but you don’t really have the energy to try to explain it.

Instead, you decide to focus on eating, hoping the sooner you finish, the quicker you can return to resting. However, the very first swallow of your otherwise pleasant meal scratches at your throat. You still try to get some down, thinking the pain will go away if you keep trying. When it becomes evident that won't be the case, you poke at your plate and begin to speak up.

“Daddy, m’done,” you push your plate away, “my thro-”

“Uh-uh, a few more bites,” Bucky pushes the plate back in front of you, knowing you’ll never feel more awake with an empty stomach. “And after you finish, you can go clean your playroom,” You look at him puzzled.

“But-”

“No buts. I already asked you to do it yesterday,” he explains, not looking up from whatever he happened to be reading at the table with you. Your face twists in confusion for a few moments before you remember how tired you felt last night. Truthfully, the fatigue was all your body could focus on, making you completely forget about the room.

“But daddy-”

“What did I just say?” he looks up at you.

“I’m tired!” you snap at him, voice raised high and whiney as you bemoan at him. You cross your arms and huff grumpily back into the chair.

“I don’t care if you’re tired. Do what Daddy says, or you can say goodbye to your playroom for the next week” he threatens. Not wanting to get out of bed was one thing, but directly disobeying him with that attitude was another.

Still, you only groan angrily in response, not feeling like you could do anything right now.

“Ugh!” you flop your head down on the table dramatically, hiding between your arms. Bucky lets your stew there for a moment before speaking up.

“Are you gonna finish eating or not?” He asks eventually, eerily calm. You remain silent, unsure of what to say. “Fine, you can go clean your room now,” You look up to him at that, suddenly confused and disoriented. Surely your daddy should know how bad you feel.

“But Daddy! I don't wanna now! I don't feel g-”

“Did I ask if you wanted to? I don’t care if you don't feel like it. Now. Or no playroom for a month.” your jaw drops, your muddled brain beyond baffled on why he’s being so harsh. Still, you know he means it. It wasn’t outside his usual punishment by any means. You almost think you should consider yourself lucky he hasn’t bent you over his knee already with how you’re fighting him.

Feeling defeated, you drag your body out of your chair. Before you can go, he grabs your arm with a warning.

“and quit with the attitude.”

“Yes, Daddy” you squeak lamentably, noticing how your throat hurts as you speak.

You drag your feet upstairs, physically resisting your legs from stomping as you go. Anger and confusion mix together in you as you think about what he said. You didn’t want to be grounded from your playroom. So many of your favorite things were in there. And, again, more importantly, you didn't want to make daddy upset with you. You never liked it when he was. You always tried so hard to be a good girl for them. But right now, it was so hard. In actuality, what you wanted more than anything was for him to cuddle with you. You felt Daddy and Dada could always make you feel better. No matter what, you were convinced your Daddies loving embrace could cure you from any ailment.

Maybe, you think, if you just cleaned your room like a good girl, you could ask to cuddle with him after.

You try your hardest to ignore the pain that ignites at every move you make, but truthfully, you're already abnormally out of breath just from your quick walk up the stairs. The room feels uncomfortably chilly against your skin.

After you get a small portion of the floor cleared, you decide to take a little break. You practically collapse beneath yourself, curling underneath the cozy play tent filled with askew fluffy pillows and dismayed blankets. You shut your eyes and tell yourself you’ll only rest for a few minutes…

“Angel?” Steve's voice echoes back at him from the loft balcony where you should easily be able to pick up his voice. He can’t hear you moving around. “Are you sure she’s in there?” he asks Bucky.

“She better. It’s where I told her to be.” he retorts disdainfully, hoping you're not again disobeying him by being somewhere else.

Steve stills himself, and listens closely, he can tell you’re there, but your breathing doesn’t sound normal.

Concerned, he makes his way upstairs. Bucky follows, recognizing Steve’s ‘something’s wrong’ face.

Steve panics for a brief moment when he enters the empty but disarrayed room. Then he spots you. Your delicate form hidden amongst haphazardly arranged fabrics. He approaches you slowly, not wanting to startle you.

He kneels down, overshadowing you as he gently caresses your cheek to wake you.

“Babygirl?” he calls softly. Puffs of hot air escape your mouth. Labored breathing is all he can hear. All they can both hear.

“Babygirl,” he calls again, shaking you slightly. To his relief, your eyes slowly open. They look sunken, tired, and devoid of their usual playful sparkle.

“Dada…?” you question quietly. “m’cold” your murmur softly, eyes begging to be closed again.

You’re not cold though. Not to Steve. You feel a million degrees too hot under his touch.

“Babygirl…” he says for the third time, this time preparing to move you. “Dada’s gonna pick you up okay?” he explains, remaining calm so as to not worry you. “We're gonna go downstairs,” you feel limp in his arms, no different than if you were deep in sleep. But you are certainly awake, even if barely. He mumbles something to Bucky you don't make out, but his tone alone tells you he’s not happy.

Once you’re downstairs, he sets you on the kitchen counter. You don’t let go of him though, your body weight is leaned almost fully onto his.

“Can you sit up for me, babygirl?” he asks encouragingly, but gently. “Daddy and I are gonna check you out okay?” you groan a bit, still just feeling tired.

“Here,” Bucky speaks up softly, snaking his arms around you, and taking Steve’s place in front of you. As you’re shifted from one body’s hold to another, it wakens you a bit. You almost go back to leaning fully onto his chest when you realize who’s holding you.

“Daddy?” you shift back a little to look up at him. One hand of his is resting at your hip, the other helping support the rest of your body.

“Hey, babydoll…” he says softly, voice drifting, and stomach sinking as he sees how sick you look.

He almost wishes he could somehow shut his hearing out. Your heartbeat is quicker than usual. He knew it better than his own. How it sounded while you slept, when you’d play, how it picks up when you laugh, giggling for breath and telling him ‘daddy, stop it tickles’ with the brightest grin lighting up your face. Now…now he can’t stand it. It’s thumping too fast. Faster than it should be for when his little girl hasn’t moved an inch herself.

Why didn’t he notice it before? He thinks back to how heavily you held onto him when he carried you this morning. How quickly he was to interrupt you. He realizes you probably tried to tell him. And he didn’t listen. Even worse, he made you clean. Guilt seeps deep into his guts as he remembers how funny your voice sounded today.

“Daddy,” you break him from his thoughts, he sees tears beginning to form in your doleful eyes. “Daddy m’sorry,” you breathe in sharply, beginning to cry “m’sorry didn't f-finish-i just-i gots so tireds daddy I’m-I'm sorry,” you sob pathetically, knowing you’ve disappointed him.

Bucky’s face falls.

All you had to do was one simple thing, and you couldn't even do that right. You weren’t being a good girl by disobeying him like that. Even if you felt bad, you feel you should have tried harder.

“Doll, no-” you cry sorries to him more, your own hands reaching to cover your shameful face. He catches them before you do, gently taking them into his and guiding them around his neck for you so you can be more level with his gaze. “Babydoll, look at daddy,” He pulls you, hands drawing you closer so he’s flush with you in between your legs. Needing to feel your skin, his right hand tenderly guides your face to look at him. “I’m not upset with you. Daddy’s not upset with you,” he reassures, silently pleading for you not to cry.

“But-but-I didn’t cleans-I-I just-I-I not good girl,” you sob miserably at the admission, never wanting to be bad for him.

“My little girl, my sweet girl, no, please no” he assures, hating how skewed shut your eyes are. “That’s not true, Doll, it’s just not. Daddy…” he carefully wipes at the wet tears on your cheek, “Daddy should have known.” he admits shamefully. You finally blink your eyes open at him, a timidly unsure expression written on your face. “I should have known. You...you tried to tell daddy huh?” he takes one of your hands and gives it soft kisses.

“N-n’your not mad at me?” you sniffle as your cries begin to slow down.

“No, Doll, never.” he couldn’t be, never for something like this. His mouth opens again, he wants to tell you how sorry he is. He’s the one who should be, but he only finds his own tongue twisted, unsure of how to fully express his remorse. Before he has time to puzzle the words together, Steve interrupts, thermometer in hand.

“Open wide, babygirl,” you do as he says. “tongue up,” he mimics the motion for you. The cold metal feels uncomfortable in your mouth. They must know this as Bucky squeezes your hand soothingly, and Steve tells you ‘just a little longer’ with a sympathetic gaze as he holds your jaw with the hand that’s not keeping the thermometer in place.

When it beeps, Steve removes it and frowns when he reads the displayed numbers.

“Can you tell us what hurts, princess?” Steve asks. You point your hand towards your neck. “Your throat?” he confirms, and you nod your head. “What else babygirl?” you then squeeze your eyes together, remembering how squished your brain feels.

“Head,” you mumble quietly, before crossing and rubbing your arms together in discomfort. “Everything.”

“Your body hurts? Feels sore?” He asks. You nod your head weakly at him, closing your eyes and wishing you could be laying down right now. Even just sitting somewhat upright felt hard at the moment.

“Okay babygirl, why don’t you let Daddy take you to the bedroom,” Steve suggests. “I’ll be there in just a minute.” he smiles at you comfortingly, before placing a kiss on your forehead with his hand cradling the back of your head.

“m’I sick?” you ask Bucky as he carries you to their room.

“Yeah, but it’s okay, Dada and I will help you feel better,” he carefully sets you on their large bed.

It's soft. Yours is soft too, but Daddies always felt so much softer for some reason. Maybe it’s because you got to sleep next to your favorite people. He arranges the pillows and blankets around you to make you more comfortable, then slides next to you. You rest your head on his chest, almost instantly falling asleep again.

Some time passes, particularly how much time is beyond you. All you knew in this moment, is how comfy Daddy felt.

After some time, Steve’s voice brings you back to reality. He instructs you to sit more upright so he can give you medicine.

The odd color liquid he brings toward you makes you cringe. You can tell just from looks how bitter and unpleasant it will taste. You recoil into bucky, small hands gripping at the buttons of his shirt as you whine.

“Daddyyy…” you tug on Bucky's shirt more, trying to force your head into his flannel to hide from Steve and his icky medicine, practically begging Bucky to not make Steve give it to you.

“Doll,” Bucky chuckles a bit at your attempt to hide inside his outer shirt. He still holds you close, hands supporting you on your bottom as you have now completely crawled on top of him.

“Angel…you know I can still see you…right?” Steve teases.

“No you can’ts…m’not here” you proclaim, muffled into Bucky’s chest.

“The sooner you take it, the sooner it will be over, come on princess.” Steve encourages. You’re still not convinced and instead mumble out one word: ‘pill.’

For a second, Steve isn’t sure if he understood you correctly before his lips tighten with a displeased look on his face.

You’ve had this conversation before. He thought surely by now you understood it, but he figured since you’re sick, it might be hard for your little head to remember.

“Sweet girl, babies can’t take pills, you know that.” Steve explains patiently. You did know that. It was early on when Steve refused to let you take any medication you needed through a pill. It didn't matter what you needed, he was always able to find a way to get a liquid version of it from Uncle Bruce. Or, as you like to think, a much yuckier version of it.

Still, you groan in disagreement, not wanting to taste something that bad, let alone when your throat hurt as much as it did.

“Doll,” Bucky speaks up. “I know you don’t want to, but it’ll make you feel so much better.”

You shake your head against his chest, disagreeing with both of your daddies now.

“it’s yucky dough daddy,” you whine.

“I know it’s yucky, babydoll,” Bucky pats at your back comfortingly while he thinks. He knows how hard this is for you, especially when you feel so bad. “Hey,” he peels you back from him a bit, unburying you from his shirt as he has an idea. “Look,” he instructs, “Here,” he takes the small cap of medicine from Steve’s hands and–to your horror–throws it back in his mouth. You look at him in horror as the icky liquid disappears from the cap into Bucky's mouth. You stare at him wildly.

Daddy’s crazy, you think.

“There. See? Daddy took it. It’s not so bad.” Bucky says nonchalantly in an attempt to convenience you. He hands the empty cap back to Steve so he can refill it. Steve shares your look of bewilderment, before you can't help but break out a smile at his action.

“Daddy,” you giggle at him.

“What?” He fakes surprise. “Daddy took it, so you can too.” he assures happily, taking the now filled-again cap from Steve. Still, you recoil from it a bit.

“Yeah…” you look between him and the medicine suspiciously. “but daddy also drinks other yucky stuffs,” you defend, referring to the strong-smelling caramel-colored stuff he likes to drink sometimes. Daddy never lets you have that.

Bucky chuckles a bit when he realizes what you meant.

“Okay, true…and little baby definitely can’t have that stuff…” he says pointedly. “but this,” he gestures the cap towards you. “you have to take.” You look between him and Steve warily.

“Please angel, I know you can do it. Do it for Daddy and Dada princess,” Steve encourages. You agree this time, mentally pepping yourself up and telling yourself if daddy could do it, so could you.

You scrunch your eyes closed as Bucky brings it closer to your lips. You feel Steve’s hands reach down to hold your face. One hand holding your jaw up firmly, with the other around the back of your head. This way, you aren't able to move should you change your mind. Steve knew you’d be a good girl and take it, but he always had to be sure just in case–not unlike what has happened before–you decide to spit it out.

When it hits your tongue, it’s just as yucky as you had imagined. Maybe even worse. Instinctively, your face contorts in displeasure as you squirm around from the gross sensation.

Steve and Bucky hold you firmly in place the whole time and instruct you to swallow.

Once you do, Steve asks you to open your mouth for him, just to make sure you really swallowed it all.

“Good girl, my brave little girl. I knew you could do it.” Steve praises you. “Dada’s so proud of you.” he beams at you, making you smile.

“Daddy proud too?” you ask shyly to Bucky.

“Super proud doll. The proudest of them all.” he winks at you, making you giggle a little bit, but it tickles your throat, causing you to start having a coughing fit.

Bucky brings a sippy on their nightstand to your lips and lets you drink some cold water. It helps calm your throat.

Steve asks if there’s anything else you want right now. You ask for some juice in your favorite sippy, and he lets you know he’ll bring it after he’s done making some soup for you.

Bucky gets out of the bed, making you confused. You promptly grab at his hands.

“Where going?” you look up to him, eyes big and sad.

“I was just gonna go help Dada, why don’t you get some rest, Doll?” He says, knowing it’s what you need most right now. To his surprise though, you don’t let go.

“Nooo,” you say, tugging feebly at his hands. “Stay…wanna…can…cuddle daddy?” you ask bashfully, suddenly feeling shy.

Bucky’s eyes turn soft. Soft. Just like his little girl. Soft. Like how your voice always sounded. Soft. Something, an emotion, a feeling, a sensation, that only you made him experience.

Even after he made you clean your playroom, even after he snapped at you and didn’t listen, you still asked in your softest voice, doleful eyes, and small grabby hands if he would cuddle with you. Sometimes–he’s not sure what he did to deserve you.

“Of course, princess,” he climbs back into the bed with you and you grin happily as you curl yourself around him just like before. He suggests again that you to get some rest, but that too comes with protest.

“Wanna watch ‘toons wif Daddy…can we’s?” you ask. Bucky smiles to himself and kisses your head. Even though he knows you’ll likely fall fast asleep no more than five minutes into it, there’s nothing more he’d like more than watch shows with his little girl

He turns on your favorite show and makes sure you’re perfectly comfortable, tucked around him and under blankets.

“Doll?” he whispers softly after a few minutes. To his surprise, you’re still awake. You mumble a questioning ‘hmm?’ he takes a few seconds to respond, trying to gather the words correctly for you. He breathes in.

“I’m sorry Daddy didn’t listen earlier,” he admits, lips ghosting the top of your head, before placing a kiss there. “I should have listened.”

“It’s okies Daddy,” you hum sleepily into his chest. It wasn’t okay. He knew that. But you—you and your never-ending soft and kind heart—forgave him. And that’s all that mattered to him. He truly was more than lucky to have a little girl like you.

“I love you Daddy,” you squeeze him softly, voice quiet. And even though he can’t see you, he knows you're smiling when you say it.

“I love you, Doll.” more than anything.

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kanri-domo · 8 months

Text

Characters: Il Dottore, AMAB! Reader

Warnings: Non-Con, Torture, Kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrome, Drugs

A tale of three failed escapes.

It's dark. Dottore has no idea where he is or how he even got here. The last thing he remebered was storming off after a useless meeting, annoyance clouding his mind, fully intent on returning to his precious experiment. Yet, somehow, he was now in a dark cell, with the only light coming from behind a locked door.

With each little movement, the chains that bind him down clank. There's a cuff around his ankle and collar around his neck, both heavy and securely locked with a sturdy padlock, with chains that lead to the bedframe, which is bolted to the ground unfortunately. The chains aren't long enough for Dottore to go anywhere close to the door either, frustratingly enough.

"You're awake!" The door creaks open, finally. In enters a person Dottore does not recognize yet feels vaguely familiar.

"I've been waiting for you to wake up for so long," you complain, "I think I used too much sedative, but I was worried you'd wake up while I was still getting everything ready! Thank the archons you've enhanced yourself as much as you have - I think the dosage would've killed a normal person."

This person, Dottore thinks incredulously, is fucking crazy. To attack a harbinger - Dottore himself no less - is one thing. It's expected to for them to have some enemies, but it's whole other thing for someone to drug and kidnap one.

You prattle on for even longer, slender fingers twirling around a set of keys. Dottore stopped paying attention, no longer interested. If you were stupid enough to flaunt off the keys to his chains, then it would only be prudent for him to waste as little time necessary to escape and give you a slow death for the trouble you've caused.

The moment you walk into his range, Dottore snaps. He might be a researcher and scientist at heart, but he was the second for a reason and it doesn't take much to overpower you.

Dottore knocks you out with a strong blow to the head. It's disgusting how weak you are, he grumbles to himself, kidnapped by a stupid weakling.

As he turns around to unlock the cuffs around his ankle and neck, he fails to notice you getting back up, brushing off the blow as if it were nothing. It's not until he's shrieking in pain from an electrical shock that breaks him out of his concentration, and to his horror, face-to-face with you.

"Sorry, darling," you purr, "I'm afraid it's not going to be that easy. But hey, since you're so excited to be here, why don't we get started with lesson one?"

Dottore's vision is darkening, but he watched angrily as you place your hands around his throat and squeeze. The last thing he sees before he passes out - whether it be from the electrical shock or the lack of air, Dottore doesn't know - is the crazy glint of excitement that he'd seen in himself many times before. Dread pools in his stomach and everything goes black.

II.

Dottore was tired. There's a bone-deep tiredness that's been persisting ever since you'd kidnapped him. How long has it been? A month? Two months? No natural light enters the cell that you keep him in and the only other indicator of time passing is you coming and going.

There are bruises all over him; you liken it to adding color to a canvas, each one blooming into blues, purples, and blacks. Everything hurts. There's dried semen on his thighs and chest, but it's easier to ignore compared to everything else.

Dottore automatically stiffened at the ominous creaking of the door opening. You step in, humming cheerfully. In your hands is a tray of disgusting, horrendous slop. Dottore looks away from you, unwilling to submit himself to your whims despite the gnawing hunger.

"Ah, this game again?" You ask, amusement coloring your voice. "When will you learn," you tut. You say more words, but he's not listening, too tired to care. You roll your eyes at him before placing the slop on the ground and leaving.

The door closes behind you, but it lacks the distinctive click of the lock. The sound of footsteps getting feinter and feinter indicates you leaving though.

Dottore stares. There's no way you'd forget to lock the door... Would you?

It's dumb, and maybe it's the pain and exhaustion that fuels this escape attempt. It's so painfully obvious that it's a trap, but Dottore is nothing if not desperate.

Tugging at the chains, the loosened links came free. Hesitantly, Dottore stalked towards the door, afraid to make too much noise, lest you come back to investigate.

Peeking out the door, he sees no one. Despite the fear and the gut instinct of something feeling wrong coursing through him, Dottore refused to retreat back into the cold embrace and safety of the cell behind him. There's another door a small distance ahead, an exit perhaps?

Dottore takes his first steps towards freedom, before breaking into a run, hurrying before you come back. He would escape, he would -

A sharp pain from his head stops him in his tracks - or rather, you slam him into the wall does. Dottore sees stars and before he knows it, he's on the ground, blood bleeding out and running down his face.

"I'm going to kill you," Dottore snarls weakly, dizziness and pain quickly overtaking his senses, "I'm going to cut you into pieces and burn you alive," he slurs.

You laugh. Dottore is already weak from the time he's spent with you, and the head injury doesn't help, so it doesn't take much for you to hold him down despite his struggling. You unzip your pants, and Dottore stills.

"This is your punishment, darling," you coo as he started hyperventilating beneath you. You're not kind, Dottore had found out early on, but usually your punishments were physical, not sexual. Sex only happened after you'd coerced him into it in exchange for something else. Never as a punishment.

Your dick is objectively big, but for some reason, it feels even bigger than usual when you penetrate him. You don't bother to stretch or lube him up, and Dottore feels the lack of preparation keenly. It's painful and slow, and the whimpers the escape him would've been embarrassing if the pain of his insides rearranging themselves to make way for you wasn't as painful as it was.

By the time you bottomed out, Dottore was only moments away from passing out, but a sharp slap across the face brought him back.

"Ah - ah," you taunt, "if you black out now, I'd have to punish you even more later."

Without warning, you pull out before proceeding to slam yourself back in. Dottore howled at the suddenness, and the overwhelming feeling of pleasure and pain began to mix together as you fucked him senseless. Soon, blood slickened your movement and your roughness smoothed into a steady pace. Your hands grip onto his thin waist, nails digging into thin flesh, undoubtedly leaving even more marks. You fuck him like a ragdoll, and Dottore was helpless to stop you.

The harsh pace is unforgiving, and by the time you've cum, Dottore was extremely close to blacking out again. You cum inside him, painting his insides white. The feeling of fullness was overwhelming, Dottore whined, his own cock hard, yet lacking the necessary enough stimulation to get a release.

You laugh at him, looking down on him as if he were a dumb bitch in heat. You take pity on him - or at least Dottore assumes you do - and dig your fingers into his prostate. It takes several harsh jabs before he spills all over himself, and Dottore silently curses his masochistic tendencies. But, at the very least, you seem to have had your fill, he relaxes, letting exhaustion fill him.

"This isn't the end of your punishment, unfortunately for you," You taunt, "You belong to me, and only me, you know? It seems my silly pet still wants to escape, so I need to make sure I train you well. I need to make sure you know, and your body knows, that I'm the only person who will ever love you!"

The last thing he sees is the sadistic gleam in your eyes, a familiar look that Dottore no doubt had on his own face once upon a time.

He blacks out, body aching and terror griping his heart.

The next time Dottore wakes up, he’s back in the dark, cold cell. There's something - a vibrator - in him, and he's tied down to the bed. You've taken everything: his pride, his freedom, and his dignity. You've crushed it beneath your heel and the only thing Dottore could do was laugh at the irony until he cried.

The mad scientist sobbed and screamed into the unforgiving darkness, unable to move and unknowing of when you'd return.

III.

He's wet and shivering. Archons, why was he so stupid. To run away when you loved him when you took good care of him.

Dottore was hiding in an alleyway a couple blocks away from where you'd kept him captive, not that he knew where the hell he was. It's definitely still in Snezhnaya, if the amount of snow meant anything, but it was a big enough country that Dottore still had no idea where he was.

He could go back, but... The thought of your anger, however, was enough to hesitate. Besides, he still was loyal to the Tsaritsa, and still had a duty to the Fatui... didn't he?

Angry stomps interrupted his thoughts. No, dread pools in his guts, it seems, you had already found him before Dottore could make any decision at all.

You stare at his pathetic form, face blank of any emotion.

Dottore pathetically crawled towards you, body already numb from the cold. He could salvage this, he thought desperately, you loved him, after all. You'd forgive him... Right?

"M' sorry," he mewled pathetically, clinging onto your pants, "I didn't mean to," he adds. He practically kneeling in the snow, too weak to get up, as well as trying to act as submissive as possible. The collar around his neck feels heavy, despite being only made of leather. You'd placed it there, changing it from the heavy lead to a lighter leather, calling it a reward for good behavior.

But Dottore had misbehaved, and now, you're angry.

"It seems," you sigh, and the next words that come out of your mouth freeze Dottore even more than the cold did, "that I still haven't trained you well enough."

Dottore opened his mouth - to beg, to scream, he didn't know - but before he could, the sharp jab of needle made its way into his neck, and you injected a strong sedative into him. Dottore slumped down into the snow, misery filling his wretched heart and vision darkening.

He wakes up strapped to an examination table. The table beneath him is warm, but the air is as cold as ever, and Dottore shivers. His mouth is being forced open by a ring gag and his legs were forced apart by a spreader bar. There's something huge inside of him, it stretches out his hole to a burning degree.

"Finally awake, dear?"

Dottore tilted his head to look towards you. There’re no emotions on your face, and you're holding a bottle filled with a clear liquid.

He whines, a last-ditch attempt at placating you. It's useless, he knows, it's already too late for him. The room is cold, but the trembles that wrack his body stem from fear.

You ignore him, opting to instead pour the contents of the bottle down his throat. It doesn't take long for Dottore to figure out what exactly you'd given him.

The aphrodisiac that you give him is strong. Dottore couldn't help but jerk and fight against the restraints, the burning need for stimulation becoming overwhelming.

You laugh at him, and instead of relieving him, you turn on something beside you, and in turn, the thing that's inside of him - a dildo - starts moving in and out. At first, the pace is slow, slow enough that he couldn't help but whine for more, but within moments, speeds up into a harsh pace.

"I think that should be good for now," you hum. Dottore's moans and breathy screams permeated the air. Even the slightest of touches from you were quickly becoming too much.

It doesn't take long before the first spurts of cum spill out, but the machine is unbudging, and so are you.

"A- ahh!" The need for more and feeling of too much clash, Dottore cries, feeling overwhelmed. You're laughing at him he notes out of the corner of his eye. He’s squirming against the restraints even more now, desperate to escape.

It's too much, he thinks; I'm going to die.

The machine continues to fuck him. It's going to fuck him to death, Dottore can't help but think hysterically, he's going to die here, still trapped by your love.

With another rough thrust, Dottore cums again. And again. And again. And again.

You're still watching him as the drugs wear off, as his dick softens, yet the machine still continues to thrust into his loose hole, unable to even clench down. There's no way he could cum again, but the machine continues to wring orgasm after orgasm out of him, even if no liquid spills out.

It takes one last dry orgasm before you finally stop the machine mid-thrust. Your hands softly run across his body, each feather-light touch makes him twitch and jerk, body too sensitive. With swift hands, you remove the gag. Dottore quickly snapped down, wishing he was able to rub his sore jaw.

"Well," you ask, "what do you have to say for yourself?"

Dottore trembled under your harsh stare, breaths coming out uneven and short.

You frown. You reach out to pet him on his head this time, each pet soft and kind. "You know I love you, right? I'm only doing this for your sake," you tell him, "The Fatui are no good for you. You belong here, with me."

"Look at you, so wrecked and slutty. This is what you're born for, you're a perfect whore," you add, "So give up, Zandik, I'm the only one who'll love you no matter what, so be good for me, m'kay?"

Dottore Zandik sobbed, dam bursting open, tears spilling. You were right, weren't you? His parents hadn't loved him, the Fatui hadn't cared enough to find him.

Only you would love a monster like him.

"I love you," he hears you say, and it hurts to hear. There's a part of him that's screeching, angry that you've reduced him to such a pathetic, humiliating state.

The rest of him is quiet though. He's given up. You love him, so you're only doing this for his sake, his mind rationalizes.

"Love you," he mumbles between the sobs and tears, "I love you. I'm s- sorry for running, for being no good."

You smile gently down at him, but your eyes are cruel and cold. You're satisfied by his obedience.

Zandik cried and cried, the reality of his situation finally settling in. There was no escape from you; your love was drowning him and finally, Zandik let himself be drowned.

#dom reader #sub genshin impact #sub dottore #dottore #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #dottore x reader #yandere reader #amab reader #but can be read as nb reader #dead dove do not eat #tw kidnapping #tw torture #stockholm syndrome #tw drugs

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