#ikevil x reader

William

~ First, are you doing this in public? BECAUSE WILLIAM WOULD BE SO DOWN FOR THAT!

~ Holy shit, imagine the Monarch on a dangerous mission, both of you enjoying each other's company at the fancy party. Will is so focused on gathering information, he doesn't notice your hand secretly raising up from behind. Of course, you don't want to humiliate him and ruin the mission that was already going smooth, so your hand did a quiet pat on his lower ass cheek. The face that William made…was one you were never going to forget. He was shocked by just the feeling alone, his head slowly moving to your direction. The silver queen had to process what just happened, and for a second you thought this was finally a boundary that was crossed. "William? O-oh I'm so sorry if tha-" Before another word can be uttered from your lips, his face changed to a wicked smirk, his eyes teasing your soul with such a sensual stare. Did his little robin want to play? Such a needy girl; his knight was wanting to be more sinful and he will gladly comply.

~ William's love was juicy, dripping with life that only you could drink. His body is yours to play with, but that also is the same for his beautiful robin. "Don't be shy about your needs. My knight can protect me from behind if she so well pleases <3" Because this is in public, or maybe you get embarrassed by such a scandalous touch, it takes a while for your confidence to build back up. His patience can go for hours, but William's desires were wanting to be met at the exact moment. Your soft hands was what the monarch wanted, and nothing was going to get in the way of his addictions. He may not do drugs like Liam and Alfons, but goodness your love is something he could go to rehab for.

~ Don't be surprised if he gets a bit excited about the new touching. You're standing next to your lover in the corner of the dance party when William whispers seductively in your ear, his light breath brushing against your cheek. "I don't think you understand the sickness you planted inside my mind. Touch me now" It was not that hard to make the Red Queen lose his own head, and you didn't even need a sword in order to make it happen!

Alfons

~ This has to have happened because the bitch rage baited you. His teasing was so bad, it just made the MC snap!

~ Now, honestly, you slap Alfons in the face quite regularly. His butt was just a different location. The plan to do this was set in motion after he humiliated you in front of the previous target, during yesterday's mission. The way he was just so confident and suave made an annoying itch never go away from your skin, so it was finally time to wipe that smile from his sexy face. This was going to be one the mirror would never forget. If you did it too soft, than he would just laugh and toy with his prey once more. This prank was going to have to be swift and hard, though a bit of worry snuck inside your mind that he would hate this. Hiding against the wall of your boyfriend's room, next to the entrance, you wait until Alfons appeared from his usual visit at the bar. He mistakenly didn't look to close the door and stepped a bit forward, letting the sight of his behind fully show in your direction. The sound…of your hand going against his ass…could probably be heard across the damn hallway.

~ When a moan gasped out of Alfons's lips, it was like time stopped for the both of you. He did not just…take pleasure from such pain! Flush and shock was plastered all over your body, and Alfons could tell that this was not part of your prank. At first, he was appalled, nothing could have prepared him for such an out-of-pocket slap…but it intrigued the man to understand why. Did he like it? Of course he did, and the sheer force in the hit could make him beg for more.

~ "Have you come to punish me? Oh, how dreadful to know I was being such a bad boy <3" His disgusting smirk said it all, the prank backfired. Alfons was liking the attention, and he was going to do more than kisses tonight. Worst part? You were hiding behind his door, and now with it closed, Alfons has cornered you against the wall. This is normally the part where the mirror blames himself for naughty moments like these, but this time, you know it was all your fault for being in such a messy situation.

Elbert

~ No, you didn't do this as a prank. It wasn't a slap either. Elbert has been through so much in his past, you wanted to make sure that he was comfortable with any love you gave him.

~ When the Elegant Queen wanted to go on a date, strangers were complimenting him left and right. This didn't really make you jealous, more annoyed than anything. People weren't feeling shame to just get so close to your lover, sometimes completely ignoring your presence. Elbert wasn't doing to well, having a bit of an uneasy look in his eyes, so the date was cut short. He blamed himself for such a troubling event, apologizing to you in his room after a nice shower. "I should apologize, this was suppose to be about you…maybe tomorrow would be nicer"

~ The urge to show how much you care for him grew, wanting to hug his body with a thousand arms. Asking him if touching his body would be alright in the moment left the man a bit surprised. No matter how many times you ask, Elbert always says "Let my craves for your warmth…be healed." Hugging was always a lovely gesture, but because of your height, your arms wrap around his waist or lower hips. The Queen went a bit crazy when your hand slightly grazed his rear, making him hum as a response. A few minutes of a lovely embrace got him to ask a question he never asked before. "Can…you test something with me? It is…a little weird…" With your cute face showing curiosity, Elbert's hands guided yours over to his lower back and right onto his butt. His hypothesis was that it wasn't going to feel anything pleasant from such a place.

William Rex

Will would take your taste into consideration while also managing to select something that he likes. And he would spare no expense. We’re talking designer pieces here. Definitely in shades of red, black, maroon... dark jewel tones, of course. I’m imagining him at the store—the saleswomen absolutely falling in love with him while he describes the kind of sexy lingerie set he wants to buy for you. Would probably land on something that takes time to remove, like a full corset set. He’d want to enjoy the view for as long as possible!  

Harrison Gray

Harry strikes me as a man of simpler tastes. He would pick something cute and comfortable for you, because to him it does not matter what you’re wearing—you are always sexy! But seeing you in the mint-green matching bra and panties that he got you gets him unexpectedly flustered! He’d bury his face in his hand and sigh, “I know I got them for you, but I already want to take them off...” So you get to tease him for once for being such a perv. Win win!

Liam Evans

You know that this certified babygirl knows his way around a lingerie shop okay! He would honestly buy you cute and sexy lingerie all the time. Like you would have soooo many matching lingerie sets from him lol. You could wear a different one every night and not run out for months. He loves to dress you up all cute and sexy! He thinks you look especially good in shades of pink, but he buys you lingerie in every color/style imaginable. And when you put it on he gets flustered, even though he’s seen you in sexy lingerie so many times before. Sorry, he’s obsessed with you!

Elbert Greetia

Okay, talk about sparing no expense. You would have to go to all of the lingerie shops in town to tell them to turn Elbert away at the door next time he comes in because it’s fr starting to be too much lmao. He would of course listen to you if you told him that you don’t need any more lingerie, only handing you one more box. You open it to find gorgeous, handmade pale blue lace garters. “Look on the inseam of them,” he’d tell you. Embroidered on the inside of each garter with pretty blue thread is a message from him. “To my dearest y/n” on one and “a beauty for my eyes alone” on the other.

Alfons Sylvatica

Lol buys you a full black latex/leather dominatrix outfit. You stare at him incredulously and he just smirks at you. “What? You don’t like it?” Try as you might to explain that you don’t hate it, but haven’t worn something like this before, it does not matter! Lol! Alfons will coach you don’t worry! “That’s exactly the idea, y/n,” he’d purr, “seeing someone as innocent and pure as you in such a naughty outfit... the thought alone gets me so excited... see... look, I’m already hard...” Lmao.

Roger Barel

Although he can appreciate a woman’s beauty in pretty much anything, he doesn’t really see the point of lingerie lol. He’s just going to strip you! Why get so fancy? But the idea of you wearing something underneath your clothes all day that he picked out for you does turn him on. Like a secret understanding that you belong to him. He would pick out something simple and elegant, but racier than what you would pick out for yourself so he could enjoy watching you nervously adjust your clothes throughout the day to make sure no one caught a glimpse of what you were wearing underneath...

Victor

Haha, there’s no kind of lingerie out there that Victor wouldn’t want to dress you in! Corsets, teddies, matching bras/panties, G-strings, thigh-high stockings, crotchless panties... You name it, he’s already picked it out for you! You politely decline most of these items, which he of course doesn’t mind (though he’ll pretend to pout). But when he does manage to convince you to wear the cute see-through lilac nighty that he picked out, he can’t take his eyes off you. He’ll whisper compliments in your ear while he runs his fingertips teasingly over the sheer fabric... “Mm, I knew you’d look heavenly in this color.”

Jude Jazza

Buying you gifts has a dual benefit for Jude: he gets to see your reaction and it means you owe him lol. So you better believe that he’s grinning from ear to ear as he watches you unwrap the chastity belt that he bought you. The look on your face is a mixture of disbelief, outrage, and, you hate to say it, anticipation lmao. You know what this means. “The princess was getting so dirty askin’ for naughty gifts and all, so consider this the start of your Good Girl training.” The blood drains from your face and he just grins even more! Get ready! Hahaha!

Ellis Twilight

Jude.

My lips curved at the memory of him, and that was when I became aware of the colder space to my left. I turned, already knowing what I would find, and saw his side of the bed neatly made and empty.

Aah… who is in the lead now?

The thought came unbidden, almost amused. Jude’s ridiculous waking hours had long since turned into a quiet rivalry between us. Who would wake first? Who would greet the other? Who would steal the first kiss of the day? I found myself smiling sheepishly as I tried to recall who had won last.

I should just ask him… though he will no doubt tease me about-

My thoughts broke off.

My eyes had drifted without intention to the calendar on Jude’s writing table. The sight of it pulled something taut inside my chest.

I felt my heart stop.

For a moment, everything held still. Then my body moved before my thoughts could catch up, the duvet tangling as I struggled free. I nearly lost my footing in the process, my balance slipping as I swung myself out of bed. The cold of the floor met my feet, sharp and immediate.

I steadied myself and hurried forward.

The calendar remained where Jude had left it, its surface marked with annotations, scribbles, and explanations that spoke of his relentless schedule. I ignored all of it. My focus locked onto a single detail: the red square.

It had been shifted.

“Day before next month!”

The words left me in a strangled exclamation, my hand snapping up to cover my mouth as though I could physically contain what that meant. The realisation settled heavily, final in a way that made my stomach tighten.

Without wasting another second, I moved.

Still in my satin nightdress, the fabric barely noticeable against my skin, I rushed to the closet we had begun to share. My fingers found the warmer robe Jude had given me on my birthday, and I pulled it on in haste. There was no pause, no hesitation. I left his room behind, crossing the threshold into the space that had once been mine but had gradually become my working space.

My "office".

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Once inside, I shut the door and locked it. Then I barred it, pushing any furniture I could move before it with a hint of urgency. Only when I stood facing it did I allow myself a breath.

I pressed my hands together in a prayer.

“Please forgive me and have mercy on my body,” I murmured into my clasped fingers.

The words felt almost similar to how nuns pray to the statue of their god, though the intent behind them was far from pure. It was less a prayer and more a plea directed at the devil himself that I would rather not confront.

I had no time explaining to him why I had to disappear into this room, knowing full well that once I spoke to Jude, I would have no motivation to sit and write reports on nine unpredictable men, with three more added to that number not long ago.

I lowered my hands.

With renewed focus, I turned to my desk and took my seat at the typewriter. My posture settled into something more familiar, more controlled. My hand reached for the first notebook I made on-

My expression soured, sir Elbert... The stack alone was thick enough to make my shoulders tense. I set them aside with care, choosing to leave them for last. Liam’s notes came next, far more manageable, and I allowed myself to start without interruption.

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The typewriter’s sound became a constant presence, repetitive and grounding.

It was no surprise, then, that I barely reacted when something struck the barricaded door.

A voice followed immediately, familiar and sharp with irritation.

“What the hell. Oi!

The door rattled under the impact, the force behind it unmistakable. Whoever stood on the other side was not holding back. The wood shifted slightly within its frame, the pressure visible in the way it resisted. There was no restraint in the attempt, no concern for the expense or the condition of the door. Only intent.

They were trying to get in.

Only when a forceful kick struck the door did the crack of the wood echo through the room, the walls shuddering faintly with the impact. I gasped, jolting away from the typewriter as my chair rattled beneath me. My body stilled almost at once, one hand flying to cover my mouth. My eyes widened as my breathing turned shallow, each inhale carefully restrained in the hope that he didn't hear me.

I could feel my heartbeat pressing against my ears.

My gaze drifted, almost instinctively, to the elegant watch on the table that Jude had chosen for me, which sat angled just enough for me to easily read the time.

Shit… it was nearing lunch.

I squeezed my eyes shut as a memory surfaced. Jude had mentioned it yesterday, his voice casual, leaving no space for refusal. He had said he would take me out, that I should dress warmly since the place was near the sea. The season was changing, and he had insisted he would not have me falling ill. His tone had carried that familiar blend of concern and teasing.

Though knowing him, he would not mind seeing me unwell if it gave him something to bully me over.

My brow tightened at the thought.

A soft thump drew my attention back to the door again. It came again, closer this time, followed by the faint drag of something shifting against the wood. Then Jude’s voice, low and steady, carried through the barrier as though he were leaning against it with his weight, forehead resting somewhere near the surface.

“When’d me princess turn this naughty, eh? Haah~? Didn’t twig I’d done such a poor job last night that you’ve got the strength to shove the furniture in front o’ a door.”

A shiver ran through me.

I pressed my knees together, shoulders tightening as warmth spread across my body in a way that made my thoughts falter. Unbelievable, I thought, keeping my eyes shut as my hand remained firmly over my mouth.

If I stayed quiet, he might assume I was not here. If I kept my breathing steady, perhaps he would leave.

The silence stretched.

For a brief moment, it felt as though it might work.

Then another voice cut in, followed by the sharp sound of something being unsheathed. Ellis. His tone carried confusion as he addressed Jude.

My eyes snapped open. Realisation of what Jude planned on doing made me turn in my chair and speak without thinking, my voice rising before I could stop it.

“Jude! Don’t damage the door!”

The words left me immediately, followed by overwhelming regret. I pressed my lips together, lowering my head. Good job.

A familiar, mocking laugh followed from the other side.

“Aah~ So the naughty Robin ain’t playin’ dead, is she~? Fancy explainin’ why you’re not only hidin’ but avoidin’ me as well?”

Something sharp embedded itself into the door with a solid thud, the sound making me bite down on my lower lip.

I should not be finding this appealing.

I wet my lips and forced my voice out, steadier than I felt. “I am not avoiding you.”

Silence followed.

It lingered just long enough for me to draw a breath, though I knew better than to treat it as reassurance. In Jude’s hands, silence rarely meant acceptance.

My expression flattened as I looked away from the door, my fingers fidgeting together in my lap.

“I just realised it is the end of the month,” I continued, my tone more measured now, “and I have not even begun my work as a Fairytale Keeper for the crown. I have too many reports to complete.”

I let out a small groan at the end, more for myself than for him. Sympathy was not something I expected.

The silence that followed carried a different weight, however, and it made me hope even if just a little.

Then his voice returned, softer in tone but edged with something unmistakably deliberate.

“Ro-bin~?”

A shiver ran down my spine at the mocking sing-song lilt. I straightened slightly, my expression tightening.

“Yes?” I answered.

"If you don’t unblock this door in three seconds,” he said, each word measured, “I promise you I’ll get me hands on you and have you quiverin’ and cryin’ the whole day, till you wake up achin’ and can’t rightly recall what day it is.”

The sweetness in his voice carried a quiet threat beneath it.

I let out a small, startled sound.

There was no hesitation after that.

I moved at once, abandoning any thought of resistance as I pushed myself to the door and began unblocking it.

Although… part of me, the quieter, more twisted part that had grown with each passing day, urged me to do the opposite. To see what Jude would do. To test the edge of his restraint.

But thinking him not to punish me for this was still foolish.

When the door finally opened, cold air brushed against my skin. I met Jude’s eyes first. His amethyst gaze held a suppressed relief that was easy to miss at a glance, but unmistakable once I caught it. The tension that had been coiled in his expression eased for a fraction of a second before something else took its place, something sharper, more intent. His relief gave way to a focused heat that settled behind his eyes, and for a brief moment I wondered what had caused the shift.

Then I remembered my appearance.

My breath caught.

Wide-eyed, I turned my gaze slightly to the left, where Ellis stood. He looked at me with a gentle, almost innocent calm, his expression soft as he took in the scene without apparent judgement.

“Morning, Robin,” he said, unaware of the growing shift in atmosphere. “Oh… I mean, afternoon.”

He corrected himself with a small, easy smile, his attention remaining on me as though nothing else in the room demanded it.

Ellis… I silently pleaded.

I returned a trembling smile, careful not to draw further attention. Speaking to him felt unwise in that moment, as though any additional word might tip something out of balance. Instead, I shifted my focus back to Jude.

He wore a self-satisfied smirk, looking down at me slightly from where he stood.

“What a nice dress ya got there, princess. New style ya tryin’? Fancy lettin’ me test the quality?”

Before I could respond, he stepped forward. His hand came to rest on my shoulder, firm but controlled, and in the same motion he guided me backwards into the room. The door shut behind us with a decisive click, the lock turning immediately.

His eyes never left mine.

The last thing I registered was the depth of that gaze, the darkened amethyst still holding onto that earlier intensity, before the moment dissolved into something far more consuming.

Time slipped.

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I woke with a low groan, my body heavy and unresponsive at first. Light filtered across my skin, and an unfamiliar soreness lingered in my muscles. My cheeks felt tight, the remnants of dried tears still present against my skin.

For a moment, I lay there, blinking slowly as my mind struggled to place where I was, what time it might be, even what day had passed. The silence around me offered no immediate answers.

Eventually, I shifted onto my elbow, turning my head to the side.

The space beside me was empty, the bed neatly arranged. I exhaled through my nose, letting the tension in my shoulders ease as I sank back into the pillow.

“Curse you, Jude Jazza,” I muttered under my breath.

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Later, I sat dressed in a comfortable blouse and a long skirt, my posture slightly slouched as I drank freshly squeezed juice. The taste helped settle the meal I had just finished, cutting through the heaviness that lingered.

I sat at the long table alongside several members of the Crown and Vogel groups. Conversations moved around me at a steady, but tensed pace, though none required my direct involvement at that moment. Jude and Ellis were absent, both likely occupied with duties at Jude’s company already.

I closed my eyes. I should get going myself.

Just as I was about to rise, my gaze drifted, and it landed on Victor. He had just stepped out of the kitchen, dressed in a ridiculously large chef’s hat and a blue apron that hung neatly over his frame.

Our eyes met.

A sudden rush of memory flooded back to me. What I was supposed to do. What I had forgotten and what I had eventually was forced to step away from.

My eyes widened in realisation, while Victor continued to stare at me with an unblinking, blank expression.

Oh my god-

“Victor!” I called out, my tone sharper than intended, drawing attention across the room. I ignored Ring’s slight flinch at the sudden volume, as well as the curious glances from the other Crown and Vogel members as their conversations paused and their heads turned.

“Robin!” Victor responded with equal enthusiasm, his face breaking into a bright, dazzling smile.

My fingers gripped the edge of the table as I watched him approach, waiting for whatever he was about to say. His next words, however, stopped me cold.

“The reports from yesterday were truly magnifique! Although a bit less descriptive and more blunt, I must say the way you worded each event was a treat to read, my dear!” he said, his voice carrying complete sincerity.

I stared at him, forcing myself not to gape.

For a brief moment, my thoughts drifted to Jude. The realisation of what he must have done brought a small warmth to my chest, though it faded almost as quickly as it appeared.

Victor stepped closer, his expression shifting to one of mild confusion as though something had only just occurred to him.

“Oh yes. Before I forget, this letter was at the very bottom, intended for you. I imagine that late at night you must have accidentally handed it to Jude along with the reports.”

He spoke with calm precision as he placed a gleaming black envelope into my hand. A familiar raven seal marked its surface, making my body stiffen instinctively.

Ignoring the confirmation that it was Jude who had to do all the reports for me, my grip tightened slightly as my thoughts ran ahead of me, already anticipating what it meant for me.

Opening it with my shaking fingers, I read on, my eyes widening with each line as the colour drained from my face.

I let out a slow breath and allowed my head to drop onto the table with a quiet thud after reading the contents of the letter. The notice from the debt collection letter sat heavily in my mind.

I am going to die~

The thought dragged out in my head, drawn and weary. I kept my knees pressed together beneath the table, a faint flush creeping across my face, grateful it remained hidden.

“Oh my!” Victor exclaimed beside me.

Harrison let out a snicker, while Roger joined in right after. “If you have concussion, please tell me so I can treat you immediately, lil' lady~”

“Ach, ach.” Darius’s voice followed, smooth and light, cutting through the air with ease.

I ignored them all.

There was nothing left for me to say, no reaction worth giving. I had already accepted what was coming for me.

Maybe with a bit too much ease.

◉ doesn't particularly mind

◉ he's likely seen and heard weirder things in his life, your extreme fear of doctors doesn't phase him

◉if you want to get over your fear he's the perfect man for the job

◉ somehow knows exactly when to push you a bit further and when to lay off

◉ he'll certainly be there to comfort you when around professionals, though he may tease you lightly if you're scared of Roger

◉ Like Victor, he usually just avoids you fear all together as the injuries they get are treated by Roger or Victor himself

◉ rewards you when you seem more relaxed or less panicked when faced with your fear

◉ has no idea what to do at first

◉ Uses himself as an active distraction should you be forced to be around them

◉ Like William, he's amazing if you want to get over your fear

◉ Also the type to reward you for your bravery

◉ over exaggerates everything if it helps, may even act more panicked than you if it'll make you laugh

◉ tells you a few silly fears he had as a child and may even tell stories about the other members of crown and things that scared them

◉ very supportive, like William, he has likely heard of weirder or even done stranger things himself

◉ He can lie to you, if that's what you want

◉ he's not the best person for this...

◉ Harrison isn't as good at comforting or distracting as the others

◉ he'll do his best, naturally, but there's no saying he'll be any real help

◉ likely to ask Liam for help

◉ is it obvious I haven't played Harrisons route yet?

◉ two ways this can go

◉ Ouch, you're scared of him?

◉ it boosts his ego a bit knowing you see him as a professional but still, ouch

◉ ouch, you're not scared of him?

◉ it hurts his ego that you're not scared of him but this makes it a lot easier for him to treat you

◉ either way, his feelings are hurt juussttt a bit

◉ Immediately offers to use his ability on you

◉ yeah

◉ not much better than Harrison but at the same time he is better than Harrison

◉ Can and will rub it in Roger's face that he gets to treat you if you're scared of him

◉ will joke about repayment for his services... It's probably not a joke

◉ he's not... Horrible overall

◉ Immediately give the task to Alfons

◉ I wouldn't trust him to treat me is all...

◉ it's said in his route he doesn't really trust Roger not to steal you from him so...

◉ if he has to, he'll hold your hand around him but he's just as upset as you are

◉ Likely to turn to Al before turning to anyone else

◉ He'll likely learn to treat you because who is he if he's not going to do everything in his power to keep the most beautiful thing in his life breathing?

◉ Once he learns he expects and likely insists on you turning to him first (if you don't already)

◉ greedy thing

◉ sickness and health quite literally, he wants you to rely on him 24/7 for anything... Maybe not cooking or cleaning though

◉ absolute sweetheart about it

◉ he may giggle once or twice but definitely helps you through Doctor (Roger) visits

◉he's had his fair share of injuries and it's safe to assume he can take care of himself for the most part

◉ most certainly bothers Jude about something if he needs it for you, extra work is nothing

◉ can help you get over your phobia if you ask but it's also kinda risky because he doesn't want to see you not happy

◉ better for when you don't plan to overcome your fear in all honesty

◉ jackass.

◉ no one should be shocked by this

◉ don't expect sympathy or help from him

◉ he won't shove your fear in your face

◉ by that I mean he won't have Doctors on standby just to fuck with you

◉ he will absolutely tease you any chance he gets about your "daft fear" but hey, everyone is daft in his eyes

◉ will patch you up and shove medicine down your throat but still holds your fear over your head

◉ better if you're trying to get over it

◉ small congratulations from him anytime you seem mildly less scared

◉ if you don't plan to try and get over it, I can only hope you handle teasing well

◉ another sweetheart

◉ does her best to help and hold your hand through it

◉ struggles when you're scared of Roger and when Jude is teasing you

◉ I love her but she doesn't seem to have too much of a backbone

◉ does everything she can to avoid a doctor unless it's obvious you need a medical professional

But the garden remained silent, eerily so. A breeze passed through, sweeping a few strands of hair into your face as you try to ignore your growing paranoia. You tell yourself you’ve grown too accustomed to living in the shadows, always lurking and waiting for some sinister scheme to come to light. Maybe it’s done something to your psyche, rewritten the part of your brain that could function without being on edge constantly.

You’re still mentally berating yourself when you turn the corner of a tall rose bush. A quiet shriek dies on your tongue when your gaze meets Roger’s. Maybe it was because of your already paramounting unease, but the sight of him standing there sent your pulse spiking. You try to smooth the front of your skirt to keep some semblance of couth intact, but the look in Roger’s eyes had your lips snapping shut on whatever remark you were about to make.

“You have three minutes to hide.”

You had only been running for a minute at most, but you were already gasping for breath. The adrenaline stole the air from your lungs and captured your heart like a vice.

Three minutes.

His words, in that gravelly tone, rang in your ears under the incessant thundering of blood rushing in your ears.

You made it to the edge of the forest that surrounded the castle, the undergrowth darkened by the thick canopy of leaves. You keep running, your soles slipping every few paces on slick rocks or moss-covered logs. The trim of your skirt was already stained with splattered mud as you ran. It felt foolish, to think of possibly outrunning and evading a man like Roger, even not taking into account his inhuman hearing. But the thought triggered an undoubtable thrill down your spine, making your mind dizzy with anticipation and maybe an underlying fear.

Two and a half minutes in, and you forced your pace to slow. You couldn’t run forever, you knew it as well as he did. Sucking in sharp lungfuls of air, you opt to hide. You don’t notice the trembling in your hands as you crawl under the hollow of a half fallen tree trunk. You pull your legs to your chest, arms wrapped around yourself like you could make yourself disappear if you just hugged yourself a bit tighter.

Surely your time is up by now. You don’t doubt he’s somewhere in the woods, listening to the frantic heart that beats futility in your chest, counting the breaths you attempt to stifle with a hand clasped over your mouth and nose.

Every sound you hear from your dark hiding place puts you on edge—a bird crying from the branches above your head, a squirrel pouncing through a trail of leaves. But then came the unmistakable sound of heavy boots against fallen twigs. The undeniable scuff of leather soles on smooth stone. Then, the pause.

The air froze in your lungs, as if the world around you suspended itself like a marionette with its strings pulled taut. Your hair stood on end, a shiver raced down your spine and a lump came to your throat. It was him.

One step. Then another. The third brought the bottom of his legs just into view from where you were hidden and it took everything in you not to cry into the sweaty palm of your hand.

”My pup’s heart sounds like it’s about to give out.” You watch with wide eyes as he takes two more steps, the tips of his boots pointing toward you. You know you’ve lost. “I can smell it too—your fear and desperation.”

Your instincts tell you to press yourself back further, the bite of bark digging into your spine as he comes to stand only an arm’s length from your little hiding spot. You watch in mute horror as he kneels, dark eyes pinning yours with an ease that has you crying out despite yourself. The sound only seems to satisfy him, the smirk on his face sending another chill through you.

You scramble then. Mind blank on everything else except ‘run, run away, don’t stop’. He lets you stumble from the hollow, watching with rapt amusement as you trip over your own feet trying to flee again.

“I have to admit, I’m a little disappointed in your initial hiding spot. Surely you didn’t think you’d actually be safe there?”

No matter how fast you ran, it felt like he was always ten steps behind you. You weren’t even sure if he was running, or where he was, if he was even behind you at all. It was like a twisted game of cat and mouse. He’d let you run, tire yourself, maybe even prod at you, before he went in for the final kill. He was a man who liked to play with his food before enjoying it throughly.

The forest was completely dark now—a sea of shadows and utterly unforgiving. A sharp cry echoes through the brush as you pitch forward. You fall with the grace of a startled deer—eyes wide and head pounding. The sound of him chuckling makes your head snap in every direction, unable to pinpoint where it’s coming from. You roll onto your back, crawling backwards on your scraped palms until your shoulders meet solid trunk.

The forest bed was damp beneath you, twigs stabbing into your legs as you gasp for breath. Your eyes flit uselessly in the dark, not making out a single shape against the murky backdrop.

Then, a warm breath of air against your ear. “That was better, but I’m still rather unimpressed.”

Before you could scream, you press a hand to your mouth. With a strangled breath, you try to get away again, but a large hand wraps around your bicep, pulling you to the ground with a weightless ease.

“Wait, Roger-“

The man above you gives you an unapologetic look, his voice dripping with faux sympathy. “You’ve had your chance.” He leaned in close, so close you could see the cold satisfaction swimming in his eyes. “But this little puppy can’t run from me, can she?”

His hand releases your arm in favor of gripping your chin, pinching your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, drawing your lips into a puffy pout. “Sweet little things like you shouldn’t be out after dark.”

“Roger, please-“ you whimper. For what exactly, you’re not even sure, but between the fear still clinging to your heart and the heat pooling between your legs, you know it’s something only he could give you.

He traps your body under his, large thighs bracketing yours as he effortlessly pins you to the ground. The way he cages you in, the sheer volume of strength he has over you—it has a keening whine bubbling from your throat.

He kisses you then, hungry and messy. It’s a full fledged devouring with teeth against lips. His touch is unforgiving as he pries your mouth open, sucking your tongue into his mouth with domineering possession.

When he pulls away, you can’t see straight. He wipes away a thin string of saliva connecting your mouths together, his lips twisting into a sadistic grin. “Not putting up a fight anymore? Or maybe you know you’re just another prey to be hunted, to be devoured.”

His words have you throbbing. It’s obscene, the way you’re so quickly reduced to this. And Roger thrives on that.

He wraps a hand around your throat, fingers holding it in a possessive grip, just enough to keep you still and pliant. His warm lips brush the shell of your ear as your legs weakly kick against the ground. “I bet you even like this. Me chasing you, treating you roughly, it’s excites you, doesn’t it?”

Oh, gods, you hate how right he is, how certain he is of this undeniable truth.

“I bet my little pup is dripping right now.” As if to prove his point, his other hand drags your disheveled skirt up past your thighs. You let out a breathy whimper when you feel the cool evening air against your soaked panties. Your hands weakly wrap around the wrist at your throat, all while Roger slides his fingertips over the ruined garment with a chilling smile.

He doesn’t even bother removing your panties, just pushes them to the side as one of his thick fingers caress your bare folds. The simple touch has you trying to buck your hips into his hand, but the weight of his thighs over yours keeps you pinned and helpless.

Finally, after he has his fun toying with your wet heat, he pushes his finger into you. The stretch of just one of his fingers is enough to have your eyes fluttering shut with a breathy moan.

“Look at you… I’ve barely even touched you, and you’re already moaning like a bitch in heat.” He ducks down to press a sloppy kiss to your lips. His mouth trails to your jaw, then in favor of replacing his palm at your throat with his lips. He leaves bites against your skin that are far too intense to be called love bites, but you’re sure they’ll bloom into a bouquet of bruises you’ll have trouble hiding for the next week. As his tongue laves over a fresh bite, he all but growls against the tender skin, “So fuckin’ perfect.”

The praise, paired with the sudden addition of a second finger into your cunt, has you moaning his name. You don’t feel the biting chill of the forest floor against your back anymore as his fingers work in and out of you, knuckle deep and occasionally curling into that spot that has your legs trembling under him.

By the time he adds the third finger, you’re certain you’re done for. If the straining bulge in his trousers is anything to go by, you know he’s used up his reservoir of restraint and there’s no hope of you walking tomorrow.

And Roger’s not much better. Despite his collected appearance, you can tell he’s just as desperate as you, mouthing against your neck and chest (thanks to the tear, courtesy of Roger, in your blouse that offered him ample access to your blushing breasts).

You whine when you feel all three of his fingers slip out of you, just before you could come. It was a tortuous game Roger loved to play—one where he’d ease you open, get you nice and ready to come on nothing but his cock. But he’d make up for all of this teasing usually by taking you slow and deep or making you come apart on him until you either were about to pass out (sometimes both).

He shifts so that he can push your thighs to your chest, granting him an uninterrupted view of your dripping pussy. He pulls his cock from his pants, the tip an angry red and leaking, the prominent vein running up the underside of his shaft pulsing as he pumps himself once before teasing his tip through your soaked folds.

You reach out to grab onto his forearms, feeling the corded muscles flex under your touch as he coats his length in your slick.

“F-fuck..” you breathe out, earning a low chuckle from Roger as he shoots you a sweetly condescending smirk.

“Haven’t even put it in, and you’re already moanin’ for me.”

And gods, when he finally does start to ease the fat head of his cock into you? You think you might actually pass out.

“Still so fuckin’ tight f’me…” his gravelly tone would have you clenching around what little he managed to push into you. He leans his face down, forehead resting atop yours before he kisses you again. “Gotta relax f’me lil lady… fuck…”

Part of you wants to cry and say you can’t take him, can’t possibly fit his inhuman length into you. But the other part (the winning part) of your brain is already mush and wants nothing more than for him to fuck and ruin you.

He pushes another inch into you, and then another, and another, until his pelvis ghosts just over your throbbing clit. You feel full, impossibly full. So much so it ached deep inside you.

You barely register the wet kisses Roger mouths against your lips and cheek, strained voice whispering soft praises, “so good f’me.. feel so good, so perfect.”

And then he starts to move, slowly at first, until you’re crying out with each deep punch into your core—so deep that you swear he’s found your soul. Your arms cling to his back and shoulders, grappling for something to hold onto as he rails you into the ground, his face lowering to suck a bruise onto your breast.

Tears wet your cheeks as you babble out incoherent pleas, nails digging into his shirt as he groans against you. Your thighs are already trembling, and you know you won’t last much longer. He angles your hips up slightly, meeting his brutal pace in a way that has stars swimming in your vision as you clamp possessively around his cock. You come with a drawn out moan, throat worn raw.

Two more deep thrusts into your spasming heat, and Roger follows suit, earning another pitched whine from you as hot come fills you, already dripping from where he’s still pulsing inside your pussy.

You feel light and breathless, fatigue coursing dangerously close as he slips out of you. The last thing you remember is the gentle press of his lips against yours.

Before you opened your eyes, you knew you weren’t in your own bed. It smelled too strongly of cedar to be your own private quarters. But the thought didn’t unsettle you. Instead, it brought a quiet comfort followed by the weight of strong arms draping over your waist. Large hands pull you back against an equally strong and broad chest.

You let out a sleepy hum, snuggling further into the pillow. Then, a frown finds your lips. You are so fucking sore. You just barely shift and it feels as thought your legs will fall off, not to mention the quiet ache of your back.

Rolling over with a huff, you come face to face with the cause of said pain. Looking not at all apologetic, the doctor snoozes without a care in the world. You poke his bare chest. The man merely mumbles in response, peaking one eye open.

“G’morning.” On any other morning, you’d bask in the sleepy, husky voice, but today the casual cadence irks you.

You poke his chest again, “Roger.” Your voice is still a bit raw, and it only makes you want to jostle him more. “Roger, I can’t move my legs and I need to pee.”

Roger nuzzles closer to you, lips brushing against your throat. “Mm, I figured that would happen.”

“Oh? So you knew what you were doing.”

You don’t miss the puff of breath warm your skin as he laughs softly. “It had been awhile since I played with my favorite pup, I thought I should make a fun game for her.”

You scoff, but there’s no real malice beneath it as you roll your eyes, “you’re unbelievable.”

He pulls you closer, savoring your warmth. “I don’t hear you complaining though.”

You run a hand through his hair, pressing a chaste kiss to his temple, “Yes, but my legs are so stiff I’m convinced they’ll fall off, and I still have to pee.”