#smut!!

Chapter 1

You are his creation. A little pet made by him, to be obedient for him…

As you sit cross-legged on the floor, drawing on scattered papers with crayons, Dr Masacrik makes his way over to you from the dark abyss of the hallway.

"What are you doing my dear?" Flashing his warm, yet unmistakingly intimidating smile in your direction he lowers himself on to the floor across from your drawings. His eyes trail to your sketches with a mix of curiosity and quiet intensity, then to your clothes, the oversized sweater he sewed with his own hands. Your headband, also composed from his designs, modeled after your favourite animal's. 

You shrug your shoulders with a weary sigh, the exhaustion evident in your slouched posture as your heavy eyes drift down towards your drawings, barely able to hold their focus.

“I’m just trying to relax a little, today wasn’t so good,” you pause for a moment. “I feel like there’s a million things going on in my head and I just can’t get them to stop, I can’t figure out what to do,” With a soft sigh you let the crayon fall from your fingers, letting it clatter on to the scattered papers as you tilt your head up to look at him, lips curled into a tired, almost pleading pout.

The doctor tilts his head, studying you like a specimen under glass. His hand reaches out to brush a stray hair behind your ear with unsettling tenderness.  

"Ahhh, the relentless symphony of thoughts - how it must gnaw at that delicate little mind of yours." He chuckles lowly, his fingers lingering near your jawline as if measuring the tension there. "But fret not, my little doll. I’ve concocted something… special for restless evenings just like this."  

With his free hand he pulls a small velvet pouch from his lab coat pocket, presenting the mysterious gift to you he spills glittering red pills into your palm - they hum faintly against your skin. "One melts away worries. Two lets you go far, far away," His smile widens impossibly as he leans closer, eyes open wildly. "Three? Well… let’s call it our private experiment. Wouldn’t you prefer quiet over relentless noise?"

“Private experiment…” You murmur under your breath, testing the words out with a mischievous lilt, half expecting them to unlock some sort of fun.

“I would prefer quiet over anything right now, honestly,” You say with a frown, gazing down wearily at the mystery pills he held in his outstretched hand.

With a click of his tongue, a flicker of amusement dances in his hollow eyes, something else hidden behind them. He pinches up one of the red pills between thumb and forefinger, holding it up to you like a sacrament.  "Good girl." The words drip like venom as he pops the pill into your mouth with sudden force, his hand cupping your chin to keep you from spitting it out. His other arm snakes around your waist possessively as he pulls your body ever so closer to him, whispering against your temple, "Now let’s see how quickly those unruly little thoughts unravel…"

The room blurs at the edges. The smell of a sharp, metallic tang fills the air around you, almost like rusted iron and antiseptic.

As quickly as you begin to get dizzy, you slump forward, almost falling straight into Masacrik’s waiting arms. Overwhelming and anxiety-ridden thoughts blur away into sweet nothings, your mind as clear and silent as the night sky. Finally.

A slow, almost reluctant smile crept its way onto your lips, the corners of your mouth twitching upward as you fought to shake off the fatigue. With a heavy sigh you finally lifted your gaze, eyes meeting his piercing ones - sharp and intense.

“Thank you.”

His lips curl into a grin as he pulls you close and cradles you against his chest, one hand stroking your hair while the other traces the curve of your cheekbone. His touch is both reverent and invasive, a doctor tending to his prized subject. 

"You’re welcome, my dear." His voice drips with dark satisfaction as he gazes down at you, "See how much easier life becomes when I take control? You don’t need to suffer those…" He pauses for dramatic effect, "annoying thoughts again." He gestures loosely in the air, waving his hand around as if to shoo away a cloud of smoke surrounding your head.

You smile wider and slowly nod your head in agreement against his chest, comfortable right where you were in his arms.

“No more annoying thoughts ever,” You emphasize, giving your head one final, intent nod.

Dr Masacrik’s laugh is low and melodic, almost childlike in its delight. He continues to cradle you close, his arms enveloping you like a possessive cocoon.  

"Good girl," he murmurs again, "My sweet little pet. You were made for this - made just for me." He plants a chaste kiss on top of your head before continuing, "There will be no more sleepless nights, no more worries or stress. I’ll take care of all that. All you need to do is rest and let me handle everything… isn’t that right?"

You tilt your head up to meet his eyes once again, searching his face with a quiet intensity. It takes a steady breath before you’re able to find the words to speak.

“Do you promise?” Your eyebrows knit together in worry, the thought of ever being a burden to anyone, let alone him, weighing heavy on your chest.

In response he cups your chin gently, his touch soft yet firm. His eyes bore into yours, filled with a mix of twisted affection and something darker. "I promise you," he says slowly, his voice soft but edged with something sharper. "You will never be a burden to me. Looking after you isn’t just my choice - it’s my right. No one else will ever care for you the way I do." His hand glides up from your chin to cup your cheek as he continues, "You are my creation, my masterpiece. You are everything to me - and I will never let anything or anyone hurt you."

"’My masterpiece,’" you repeat, mimicking his voice with an exaggerated tone. The words barely have time to leave your mouth before you burst into a fit of giggles, unable to stop yourself. You regain your composure after one final giggle, settling your cheek to fully rest in his hand, maintaining eye contact.

“Okay, I trust you.”

He chuckles, a deep rumble in his chest as he listens to your giggles. He shakes his head affectionately, "Oh, you’re such a tease sometimes… I do hope you understand how dangerous it is to mock the man who controls the chemicals that keep those pretty little thoughts at bay." His thumb gently rubs circles on your cheek as he speaks again, "But that’s part of what makes you so special. You’re fearless and playful - and it’s adorable."

Your cheeks flush under his touch and you let out a soft, nervous giggle, barely able to meet his gaze. When you finally look up, your wide eyes hold a quiet vulnerability - like a deer in headlights, unable to look away.

“Me? Adorable?” You laugh, poking your tongue out quickly, a playful spark shining in your eyes. Your cheeks flush as you glance away, embarrassed yet unable to hide the smile tugging at your lips.

Dr Masacrik snickers, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He playfully pinches your tongue between thumb and forefinger, "Yes, you - adorable." He releases your tongue and taps the tip of your nose. "So cute… like a little kitten trying to hiss at its master."

You flash a devilish grin, eyes twinkling with mischief, before pretending to snap at his finger. In the next instant you throw yourself backward toward the floor while squirming playfully in his grip, nearly breaking free. Laughter bursts from you, loud and uncontrollable, filling the air around you two.

He gasps dramatically, feigning offense as you almost wriggle free. His laughter mingles with yours, but there's a sharp edge to his smile. "Naughty little thing." He lunges after you, pincer-like grip snatching your ankle mid-laugh. In one fluid motion he drags you back into his lap, arm locking like a steel band around your waist as he looms over you with theatrical fury.  

His eyes almost seem to gleam in the low light when he growls, "Would my perfect pet prefer the quiet of chemical bliss... or perhaps…" He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear far too gently for the threat in his voice, "...a gentle reminder of who holds her strings?"

“I don’t know, doctor…” You mumble, trying to fight off the residual laughter. “This ‘chemical bliss’ is making it really hard to make a decision for myself.” You shrug your shoulders dramatically, sighing against him.

His eyes grow dark at your words, his grip tightening ever so slightly. He leans closer, his face now just inches from yours. "Is that so?" he purrs, "And what if I told you that bliss is working exactly as intended? That it’s making you more obedient… more malleable." His free hand begins to trace idle patterns on your back, the touch ever so light and almost ticklish. "Would my little pet prefer to regain her wits… or submit to her master willingly?"“Mmm,” you hum softly under your breath, tilting your head as if actually giving the thought real weight. A teasing smile tugs at your lips before you continue. “I think if I lost my wits, you’d miss them. I think you like them.” You cross your arms having come to a decision, nodding your head firmly to no one in particular.

A low chuckle rumbles from his chest, his fingers still absentmindedly tracing patterns on your back. He tilts his head slightly, studying you with an amused expression, trying to find out what exactly about you kept him so entertained. "You’re not wrong," he admits, a hint of genuine affection in his voice, "I do enjoy your wit… most of the time.” He leans forward, lips brushing yet another kiss against the top of your head before continuing, “But I must admit that there are times when I find myself craving that sweet oblivion… when everything is so simple with you."

“Then… oblivion sometimes, and wits sometimes,” you say slowly, as if weighing the balance of the two in your mind. “We split them up, take turns. It could be a good balance.” You nod your head again and smile to yourself, subconsciously leaning closer towards the kiss he had placed on top of your head, letting the rest of your body come to relax against his chest as you made the decision.

His lips curve into a satisfied smile as you lean into his touch. He wraps his arms tighter around you, pulling you closer and closer against him as he nuzzles the top of your head. "Mmm, a compromise then…" he murmurs, "A little bit of bliss, and a little bit of clarity. It’s only fair.” His hand slides up to gently stroke your hair again, "And I must say… I’m quite pleased with this arrangement. It allows me to enjoy both sides of my darling pet - obedient and compliant one moment… mischievous and defiant the next."

Humming contently, you smile as his fingers thread gently through your hair. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine - leaning in closer you chase the sensation until you're nearly toppling over, the world around you blurring as you lose all sense of place.

Laughing softly he brings you closer to his chest before you can fall. He adjusts his grip on you, holding you against his chest with one arm while the other continues to stroke your hair.  

"You’re like a little cat, aren’t you? Always seeking comfort and attention," he teases affectionately, "But I must say… I find it endearing."

You gaze up at him sleepily through your lashes, melting into his touch. Playful glint in eyes, you stick out your tongue and let out a playful ‘meow,’ soon followed by a burst of giggles.

His lips curl into a predatory smile as he watches you transform into a giggling, almost purring mess in his arms. His fingers poke playfully into your ribs before sliding up to press against your throat - gentle but deliberate. "Purr away," He coos mockingly, "But remember - kittens who forget their place often find themselves… collared." With sudden gentleness, he retracts his hand from your hair to find his coat pocket, pulling out a velvet-lined bag, opening it with a flourish. Inside lies an intricate silver studded collar adorned with gems that sparkle under the light.  

"Adorable, isn’t it?" he drawls, tilting your chin upward with two fingers. "A reminder of whose lap you belong in."

You don’t even think before you respond, “Yours, always,” You whisper happily, nuzzling in closer to his chest as you admire the collar he presents you with.

“I love it… I think it’s… it’s really cute!” you say with a soft giggle, your cheeks warming as you speak. Tilting your head to the side, your eyes widen with a hopeful gleam as you look up at him, holding it out a little awkwardly. “Can you help me put it on?”

A sharp smile spreads across his face as he gently brings the collar around your throat, securing it into place with a theatrical flourish, his hands lingering there on your throat. The gems gleam faintly as he adjusts it. "Perfect," he breathes, thumb brushing over the clasps. "No more squirming out of my reach…” 

Leaning down until his lips graze your ear he breathes, "But worry not - you’ll wear this beautifully when I present you to my colleagues. Imagine their envy at seeing how… well-behaved my masterpiece is." He pulls back with a chuckle that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "You think it’s cute? Oh no, darling. This is far more than that. This is ownership."

Your eyes widen at his sudden declaration, a prickle of shock and confusion rushing through your chest as your body turns stiff beneath his touch. You instinctively draw your arms around yourself as if the gesture could shield you from the weight of his words - an attempt to feign some semblance of comfort.

“C-colleagues? What? Presented?!” you stammer out in disbelief as your voice catches in your throat. Confusion and panic rises within you and you tense up even further, shoulders drawing tight as your lips pull downward into a worried frown. You try to process what you’ve just heard, the implications weighing heavy in your mind, distorted by the pill he had given you earlier.

His smile melts into something disturbingly gentle as he notices the tension building in you. He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch deceptively tender. “Ah-ah, my precious doll - must I remind you what those lovely little pills are for?” He taps the collar with a fingernail, the sound ringing like a bell. “No more anxious thoughts. No more… fear.”  

He leans in until his breath warms your cheek. “My colleagues only deserve to witness perfection. And when they see how perfectly obedient you’ve become…” A cold laugh escapes him as he traces the clasp at your throat again, “Let’s just say you’ll make quite the demonstration model. For science, of course.”

“I don’t… I…” you whisper, your breath unsteady. A sting builds behind your eyes as tears threaten to fall - your body instinctively recoils, inching back as if distance could protect you. The presence of the doctor, once a source of calm, maybe your only, now feels foreign - unsettling - any sense of safety now shattered. “I thought I was just… yours. I don’t want others to… have me. I don’t want a demonstration!” Your voice cracks at these last words, the tears finally beginning to flow down your face.

Dr Masacrik’s smile vanishes instantly, replaced by a look of cold fury. He grips your jaw with sudden force, tilting your face upward to meet his gaze. “Still yours?” he hisses, the mask of gentleness crumbling. “You exist because I carved you from nothing. Every breath is mine. Every tear - mine.” His free hand dips into his coat pocket and pulls out the velvet pouch once again, shaking a single red pill into your trembling palm. “Swallow it,” he commands softly, “Or I’ll carve that fear out of you myself.”

As you obey shakily, parting your lips to let the pill pass through, he brushes the tears from your cheeks with mock tenderness. “There we go. My sweet girl… No demonstrations. You’re too precious for sharing.” He laces the lie through his teeth like poison.

Your heart beats wildly out of your chest, your hands clasped tightly in front of you continue to tremble even as the pill makes its way through your system. You avert your gaze, unable to meet his eyes, the weight of his stare too heavy. Though unsuccessfully you try to hold them back, tears well up again, clinging to your lashes as your body trembles against his. A shiver runs through you - not entirely from fear, but from the paralyzing conflict within. You want to pull away, to put space between you, yet hesitation roots you in place, the fear of provoking him tightening in your chest.

The grip on your jaw tightens further as he notices you trying to avoid his gaze. He leans in even closer, almost unbearably so, forcing you to look at him directly. “Eyes on me,” he commands, “I don’t want you looking away from me while I’m speaking to you.”

He waits patiently until your eyes once again lock onto his before continuing, “There we go… much better.” His tone softens ever so slightly, “I can see that those thoughts are still bothering you, even with the pill. But I have a little idea that might help take your mind off things.”

The sharpness in his voice with the unkind edge of his touch cut deeper than you expect, and that’s all it takes for the tears to finally spill over. They trail down your cheeks hot and silent as your lower lip begins to tremble. You bite down hard on the urge to break completely, struggling to hold yourself together even as the fragile composure you clung to starts to slip away. 

“Idea?” You say meekly, gently testing the waters.

The doctor releases your jaw only to trail his fingers down your trembling arm, nails brushing faintly against the fabric of his own handiwork. His gaze darkens with twisted amusement as he reaches into his coat and produces a gleaming surgical scalpel. "A demonstration," he purrs, flicking the blade to catch the light, "but between just us. Nobody else. Shall we carve away those pesky doubts? A little... therapeutic surgery?"

He presses the cold steel against your collarbone through your sweater - situated right over the area where he first sewed stitches into you. His voice drops to a whisper, "Or perhaps I'll add my initials here... permanently. A reminder that even in pieces..." The blade dips lower, "...you're mine."Every muscle in your body locks tight as you draw in a sharp breath and hold it, your chest barely rising. Your eyes fly open, wide with pure, unfiltered fear, the kind that anchors you in place. What once began as a tremble now overtakes you entirely, your limbs shaking uncontrollably as adrenaline floods your system. A strangled cry catches in your throat, barely escaping as a broken sound, while your gaze fixates on the gleaming scalpel - cold, precise, and far, far, too close.

His smile widens into something truly terrifying as he examines your reaction. He presses the scalpel against your skin just hard enough to leave a red mark, but not enough to break it. “Mmm, you’re shaking like a leaf,” he coos mockingly, “I can almost hear your heart pounding away in your chest.”

He leans in closer until his face is mere inches away from yours, “But don’t worry… I won’t hurt you too much. After all, what fun would it be if my precious pet wasn’t able to remember our little lesson?”

Your eyes flick frantically around the room, searching for something - anything - that offers an escape. Panic coils in your chest like a tightening rope, each breath growing shallower as it claws its way up your throat. It rises fast and merciless, threatening to choke you and steal your voice before you can even cry out. The walls seem to press in closer as if the room itself is closing in on you. Your head shook quickly and violently side to side, lip quivering and fresh tears freely rolling down your reddened cheeks.

You were frozen in place - in silence. Helpless.

Grinning, the doctor's expression turns razor-sharp as he watches your paralysis, the scalpel still hovering against you like a threat. He clicks his tongue and raises the blade to tap gently against your trembling cheek. 

"Tsk tsk. Still so stubborn? How… unfortunate." He drags the flat edge of the blade down your cheek, your neck, stopping just above where his initials might rest on fresh skin. "Don’t fret - I’ll make this quick," he coos, pulling a syringe from his pocket with practiced ease. The liquid inside swirls crimson. "A little painkiller to dull those noisy nerves… and something special to ensure you’re quite... compliant during our little procedure."  

He yanks your head back by the hair, fisting it together with the scalpel, exposing your throat as he raises the syringe for you to examine - a surgeon’s precision masked behind wild eyes. "Scream for me, darling. I do so love seeing how loud I can make my art."

~~~

Link for chapter 2!

https://www.tumblr.com/2muchtocount/786836755825475584/dr-masacrik-x-femreader-ch-2?source=share

Thank you guys for reading! I'll be adding on the next chapters soon, and posting my works on AO3 and Wattpad as well under my same user! ^v^

whats this quarter pounder with cheese doing in my pocket? 😏

Killing, Stalking - charlie walker out saturday at 2pm est !!!

when billy came by to his house that night, he wanted to surprise the other one. he had pulled a robe on himself to hide it when billy knocked on the door.

he opened the door with a grin and took billy’s hand, leading him to his bedroom. he pushed the other to sit down on his bed and gave him a quick kiss before backing away.

”I got a.. a surprise for you.” steve said and soon his robe hit the floor, showing the stockings that hugged his thighs perfectly and the small panties he had a hard time putting on, but they made his ass look good, so it was worth it in the end.

billy’s dumbfounded face when he saw what he was wearing made steve nervous. he tugged at the hem of the garter belt he had bought as an extra and bit his bottom lip.

does billy like them? he thought.

after a while he turned around, apologizing and calling himself stupid for trying it out when billy didn’t say anything and just kept staring.

he tried to pick up the robe and pull it on, but then he felt billy’s big hands land on his waist, hot on his pale skin. a deep blush creeped it’s way up steve’s body and he felt himself have a full-body shiver when billy whispered he was gorgeous right against his ear.

Chapters: 6 Filthy

It’s here! Finally. Holy shit.