no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponent al, logarithmic, while i gasp for air, scream and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cow girl, doggy, backwards, forwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick thribbing, first clenching, ear rining, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling. teeth jitterbug, mind blogging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy, moan inducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious, gushy, creamy, beastly, lip bitting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, cant walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eyelash removing, eye widening, pussy popping, nail stractching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell desolving, hair ripping, show stopping, magnificent, unique, extraordinary, slendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming, heavenly, awakening, devils tangos, take me as your eternal lover.
mean men who mock you when you get wet after being manhandled, stick their hands between your legs and gather your wetness until they have enough that clings to your fingers. then, they pull their hand back, show you the slick stringing between their fingers, and coo at you, saying. "aw, look at this mess. you can't control yourself at all, can you?"
cw - sub fem reader, smut, predator/prey, dubcon, chasing n hiding, semi-public|outdoor sex, size difference (big dick roger), choking/throat holding, fingering, piv, dacryphilia, roger calls reader pup/puppy/bitch, not proofread :p
word count - 2.7k
a/n - this is the first time i’ve written for roger so it may be ooc and/or complete shit (also my first time writing for ikevil at all so i apologize for any mischaracterization). on a side note, if anyone has any suggestions for character studies on the ikevil men pls let me know :’)
Wandering through the garden, it felt like something was watching you. You glance towards the castle, half expecting to see prying eyes peering down from arched windows, but the glare of the early evening sun gives away nothing. You continue deeper into the sea of deep green and late blooms. Autumn was looming with a perpetual chill that clung to the mornings and well into the night. It’s most evident in the flowers, however. A few of the trimmed hedges and well-kept bushes already bare of the early blossoms.
As you casually tread down the well worn path, the uneasy feeling returns. The hairs on your nape rise with a chill that has nothing to do with the setting sun. You cast a wary glance over your shoulders once again. Perhaps Liam was playing a trick on you. Ever since he learned your susceptibility to easy scares, he’d been known to jump out of corners and use his invisibility as a party trick to make you yelp.
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.”
“Mhm… don’t worry, I’ll take care of ya.” Another kiss lands along the column of your throat. “Anything for my favorite girl, right?”
i only write for fem or gn readers, but mostly fem.
i occasionally accept requests. you're welcome to share. ideas or brainrot, but i most likely won't write it unless i really really truly vibe with it hehe
